Malrik didn't care about negotiations or philosophies anymore.
All he could see was Betty's smirking face, dancing on the remains of his home, speaking as if Callex was some experiment gone stale.
His heart thundered. His grip tightened.
With a roar that echoed through the tunnels, Malrik lunged at her, sword flashing with steel and fury. He aimed to kill.
"Oh my, we're skipping foreplay?"
Betty chirped, flipping backward with unnatural grace.
The hem of her stolen dancer's garb flared around her like wings. She landed effortlessly and smiled wide.
"Come on then, hero boy. Show me what Callex's pride can do."
"Malrik! You're not her match. Fall back!"
Nova snapped, eyes narrowing.
But Malrik wasn't listening. He charged again, blade swinging wild and hard. Betty ducked once more and spun around him.
"Oof. You fight like a soldier. Predictable."
Nova moved to assist—but a soft sigh stopped him.
