Her voice rang across the battlefield — the trained, commanding, carrying projection of a Ktorian princess giving an order. The soldiers moved. The commanders moved. Berenga moved. The entire remaining force — minus the men too stunned to stand — surged toward the tree line.
"Shouldn't we help him?" a soldier yelled, pointing at Viktor, who was still cutting the skeleton apart and watching it regenerate.
"We would only get in his way!" Evriana shouted back. "Move! Capture the woman! Now!"
They ran.
Evriana was faster.
Much faster. The Ktorian bloodline — even half-blood, even diluted — carried gifts. Evriana's gift was Flash Replacement. The ability to teleport. Not freely, not without cost — she needed a target, a destination, something in her line of sight to swap positions with. A tree. A rock. A person. She saw it, focused, and her body replaced it, appearing where it had been while it appeared where she had been.
She used it now.
