Cut two—silencing the chorus.
He stepped deeper, shoulder brushing robes slick with spectral ink, and drove the first sword straight through the glimmering glyph at the collarbone. Sparks burst in oily purple light. The entire Titan seized, robes twisting into featherweight ash. Its spine folded, and the lumbering mass crumpled like paper doused in black fire.
Sylvanna was already targeting the ironclad giant. Her fingers danced across the bowstring, weaving a runic cadence. The shock arrow she chose glowed with jagged cobalt veins. She inhaled once—steady, measured—then released.
The arrow streaked beneath the soldier Titan's guard and punched into a seam where dented greaves met thigh. Lightning detonated, not outward but inward, flooding the amalgam with discordant energy. Helms clattered as the creature's march faltered, knees locking and hips twisting unnaturally.
