The northern district had become unrecognizable.
Collapsed homes.
Shattered streets.
Fires burned where families had lived only hours before.
Blood soaked the stone roads.
Yet...
Something had changed.
Taai stood amid the destruction, breathing heavily.
The Greater Demon he had been facing lay in pieces several streets away.
Not because of him.
Because of them.
His eyes swept across the battlefield.
One...
Two...
Five...
Twelve.
Only around a dozen mysterious figures.
Yet everywhere they moved—
The battle shifted.
---
A demon lunged at one of them.
The cloaked figure stepped aside by a fraction.
No wasted movement.
No flourish.
The demon's momentum carried it forward.
One palm struck its chest.
The impact wasn't loud.
The demon simply stopped.
Then collapsed.
Dead.
---
Elsewhere—
Another member slipped between two monsters.
One sword.
Two precise cuts.
The monsters continued running.
Three steps later—
Both fell apart.
---
A cultist attempted to stab one of the cloaked figures from behind.
Without even turning—
The figure caught the wrist.
Twisted.
Disarmed.
A strike to the throat.
Another to the chest.
The cultist dropped without another sound.
Every movement was...
Fluid.
Efficient.