Meanwhile amid the sea of broken bodies of beats, Selena Vega stood alone among the carnage.
Her breathing came in ragged bursts, her chest rising and falling as blood trickled from a deep gash that had nearly torn through her torso.
One of her arms was completely gone, severed during the last exchange. Yet even maimed and bleeding, she refused to kneel.
All around her lay thousands of mutilated corpses—spiritual beasts reduced to lifeless husks, their luminous essence fading into dust. The battlefield smelled of ozone, blood, and burning mana.
Across from her knelt Arya, the green-haired woman. One of Arya's legs and an arm were missing, blackened at the stumps from Selena's void attacks.
For a moment, silence reigned between them—until Arya's body began to glow. Blinding light poured from her wounds as streams of spiritual energy swirled into her like a tide. In seconds, both her arm and leg regenerated, the flesh reforming as if time itself had reversed.
