Her knees still felt weak, but her eyes stayed fixed on the figure in front of her.
The rift behind him rippled again.
Another silhouette stepped through.
A short woman with a dark ponytail, blade at her hip, posture straight as a drawn line.
No theatrics. No wasted movement.
Just a quiet, lethal certainty in the way she walked.
Ria's breath caught.
"B-Blade… the samurai " she whispered, voice trembling with awe. The infamous second-in-command. The rising prodigy. The sword that the Primordial Villain trusted enough not only to keep at his side but to lead all that was his.
Ayame didn't even stop to inspect the room. She sent one small glance toward the man before her. Her eyes were sharp and knowing, then broke into a sprint, sword already clearing its sheath as she joined the soul soldiers carving through the undead.
Before Ria could recover, the rift pulsed again.
This time, the air settled into something strangely calm, almost still, before the next figure emerged.
