The moment they moved, the temperature surged.
Ma-Rok led the charge, her body a blazing blur of molten light. The flame-wrapped staff spun in her grip, each movement trailing arcs of fire that hissed against the ruined concrete beneath her boots. The floor scorched as she sprinted, flame pressure cracking the air like thunder.
Right beside her, Eun-Ja flowed like liquid steel. She didn't run so much as slide, each step barely touching ground. A spinning ring of light circled her wrist—her inventory field—unleashing a barrage of weapons with a mere flick of the finger.
A whip made of solidified sound. A curved dagger humming with frost. A spiked mace glowing faint green with embedded venom.
The attacks came fast.
Chul launched forward first. The moment Ma-Rok's staff came swinging in a wide horizontal arc, flames lashing out with a roar, he dropped low—fist glowing with stored kinetic charge. Her staff scraped over his shoulder like a comet's tail, heat searing his jacket.
