Even as he cut through another stone warrior, Alex's focus never wavered from Khepri.
His movements were a symphony of brutal efficiency — muscles coiling and releasing in seamless rhythm — yet a sliver of his mind remained locked on the man seated above the battlefield, on his throne of stone and will.
Because losing sight of Khepri, even for an instant, could mean death.
So when Khepri moved — truly moved, for the first time since unleashing his Partial Law — Alex felt it before he even saw it.
Every instinct, every honed survival reflex howled through his blood.
Breaking free from a tight convergence of twenty stone warriors, Alex caught the deliberate, almost regal, lift of Khepri's hands.
And he knew without doubt: whatever was coming next would be lethal.
Then, as Khepri's hands dropped — like a god passing judgment — Alex's narrowed gaze caught it:
Thousands of suspended earth-forged weapons plummeted toward the battlefield in a deadly rain.
