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One Rank Three was already pinned by the twins, blood threads controlling his neck and shoulder while Vela's strikes broke his posture again and again. Another Rank Three had been forced into the perimeter net and had his knee shattered. A third tried to push past Sekhmet and got bitten when he overextended, his face turning pale as his chaos energy wavered from blood loss. A fourth crashed into a pillar after a maid—no longer acting like a servant—hooked his ankle and twisted him down, then slammed a short baton into his wrist joint with clean precision.
The remaining spectators began adding louder comments now, because fear and entertainment were mixing into a dangerous cocktail.
