Scathach did not move for several seconds. But it was not hesitation. It was contemplation. The silence around her seemed to bow to her presence, as if even the particles of air knelt before the colossal force emanating from her reborn flesh. She stared at Ignisar not as an opponent, but as a sentence to be served. Like the next corpse that would walk toward her begging for forgiveness.
And she would not grant it.
With a slow movement, she raised the black spear that had formed in her hand—a weapon that seemed made of the very absence of light, pulsing with ancient runes that no mage would dare to pronounce. Her body, covered in a garment molded by the living runes, exuded an ancestral, primordial presence. It was as if a forgotten deity had returned to judge the mistakes of an entire civilization.
Ignisar hesitated. For the first time.
And Scathach spoke.
"I was born among humans, but I was never one of them."
