Gorvasha did not simply charge; she transformed into a force of nature.
She moved with the terrifying, singular intent of a predator that had ceased all calculation and had simply become the strike itself. This was the full, unbridled mass and velocity of an SSS class orc queen, a momentum honed by ten millennia of ancestral combat designed to end arguments and shatter lineages.
Beneath her skin, the primal rage enhancement was surging, not as a conscious choice, but as a visceral, involuntary response. Her orcish inheritance was reacting to the very ground Rex had just claimed; the earth had declared its scale, and her blood had answered the call with a roar of its own.
She struck.
Rex moved with a deceptive, liquid economy of motion. He reached out and caught her lead arm.
The collision was catastrophic. The sheer kinetic energy of her charge should have sent him reeling, but the impact did not stop at his flesh.
