The air recoiled.
The ten legendary blades adjusted again without visible signal. Their orbit loosened and reformed into a layered circle at uneven heights, some near the fractured ground, others suspended beneath the torn ceiling where moonlight spilled through broken stone. Each sword angled toward a different approach, covering space with quiet precision. It no longer looked ornamental. It looked like a trap closing.
Valttair had not moved.
The intelligent Void Creature finished regenerating its severed foot. The new limb held, but its surface was denser, slightly uneven, as if the tissue had been forced back together too quickly. The half-formed wings along its back tightened, membranes trembling under strain.
