The only path left was a one-hit kill.
Anything less was pointless.
But the assassins had been trying that for a while now without success.
Liara glanced toward the half-destroyed upper floor of the guild building.
That man stood there, like he was watching a play unfold rather than a battle.
That damned farmer.
He didn't even lift a weapon.
He just stood there, eyes sweeping the battlefield.
And yet, every time one of her assassins crept close enough to go for Alice's throat, roots erupted from the ground to snare them in place.
He wasn't even breaking a sweat.
"Dammit! Keep fighting!"
Alice smashed through shield walls, tore down defensive formations, and left craters wherever her hammer landed.
The flames spread, eating up more of the hall with each swing.
Above it all, the farmer kept watching.
Isaac's expression didn't change, but Liara could tell he was calculating every second.
He glanced up once, and for a moment, his eyes narrowed.
He noticed something.
