Zane’s eyes narrowed, but then—without warning—he let his twin blades slip from his hands.
The metal barely clinked against the stone before both weapons melted into the shadows at his feet, spreading outward like a tide of black ink.
The moment the darkness touched them, Astrid’s mercenaries—every last one on the ground—collapsed where they stood. No scream, no time to react. Their bodies simply crumpled as if their life had been erased in an instant.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Only the Crimson Shroud agents remained untouched, hovering above the carnage with an eerie calm.
Praise didn’t flinch. If anything, she smiled faintly, pressing the dagger against Sera’s neck until the thin cut deepened and more crimson dripped.
"Don’t try to be a hero," she said coldly. "Before you reach me, she’ll die. I’ve already linked her life to my heart—if I die, or even if I want to, she dies with me."
Zane stood perfectly still, eyes locked on her. The weight of his shadows trembled at the edge of release, but he didn’t move.
A long, tense silence stretched between them.
"...Okay. I surrender.