The high orc — battered, bleeding, one arm held wrong — looked at the tiny green-haired elf who had just made a demon lord stumble, and made a decision.
"Yes," he said.
"Then keep moving," Freda said. "Circle. Keep his attention split. Don't stop moving."
She hit Chronus again — four elements this time, a different combination, targeting the specific points where his temporal field was thinnest after the first strike.
He walked toward her.
The walk was deliberate. Unhurried. The walk of someone who was choosing to engage rather than needing to engage.
"You're one of Morgana's," Chronus said, studying her as he came. "I can feel her teaching in your magic structure. Very elegant. Very thorough." He tilted his head slightly. "She trained you to fight. Not just to cast."
