Yomi let her fall to her knees.
No gloating. No anger. No words.
Just silence.
And the understanding that this wasn't punishment.
It was strategy.
He moved on without looking back, leaving her cradling what was left of her hand, the knowledge that she would never cast again cutting deeper than any wound.
Each opponent fell with specific, calculated injuries designed to serve as permanent reminders of the consequences of challenging him. Broken bones that would never heal quite straight. Severed tendons that would require months of magical reconstruction. Disrupted magical pathways that would limit their casting abilities for years to come.
