The swirling mist billowing from Helen's rapier coated the shattered marble floor in a treacherous glaze of translucent blue ice.
Ten paces before her, the colossal stone hound shook its gargantuan head, throwing off frozen shards with an angry mechanical rasp.
The runes etched into the creature's flanks pulsed with sudden speed, their glow shifting from dull crimson to blazing scarlet.
Its ancient tactical core recorded every foot placement, blade angle, and breathing rate the imperial officer displayed.
"Come on, scrap heap," she muttered, snapping her blade forward in a clean testing arc. "Show me what else the old dynasty taught you."
"Runic output is spiking..." she noted silently, measuring the crimson flare along its jaw. "It recognized my imperial opening within two seconds."
"Three paces to the left," she calculated inwardly, watching the obsidian paws dig into the marble. "If it sweeps low, I take the knee joint."
