Cassandra exhaled, a long, shuddering breath that seemed to release more than just air; it was the sound of a woman shedding the last vestiges of restraint. The frustration, the calculated patience, the strategic hesitation—it all bled out of her, replaced by a terrifying, singular focus.
She wasn't looking for a window anymore. She was going to break the door down.
She lunged.
This wasn't the measured, surgical approach of a scholar hunting a variable. This was a total, unmitigated assault.
She threw the entire weight of the Blood Oath's divine authority into a single, devastating forward surge. There was no blood architecture, no feints, and no indirect manipulation of the environment.
It was pure, raw intent: blade, body, and a divine frequency so dense it felt like the air itself was being crushed into a liquid state.
Rex met her head on. He didn't dodge; he didn't retreat.
