The survivor's chest rose and fell with fury as he watched his friend fall.
"I'll kill you, bitch!" he screamed, unleashing a flood of chains toward her.
She couldn't afford to waste her ability.
So she raised her sword, filling it with pure Will.
And she danced.
Between the chains—never touching a single one—with impossible grace.
Each strike was a blur. Sword or golden light, she flowed like water. But the chains multiplied, weaving tighter, closing in around her.
She clenched her teeth.
'I can't even use my bloodline… one wrong move, and I might hit it.'
She accelerated. Her blade grew sharper, her footwork more frantic.
And yet—it wasn't enough.
One chain grazed her, just slightly, across her left leg.
Her jaw tightened.
She broke free and, in an instant, severed the man's head.
He fell.
But the chains kept coming.
'They're still moving… just from his will?' Selene's eyes widened slightly.
She screamed:
"Open. Now."
