Brack changed tactics.
He stopped moving toward Velis directly—stopped presenting himself as a target that could be flanked by separated sections because the first exchange had demonstrated exactly what that cost him. He planted himself near the center of the arena floor and began working the ground instead.
The iron liquid poured from his feet.
It spread across the stone in a slow expanding pool—not fast, not dramatic, just steady and patient, the metallic liquid finding the cracks and irregularities in the surface and filling them, creeping outward from his position in all directions. He let it spread for ten seconds before hardening it—a wide iron plate across the center of the floor, solid and permanent, a foundation that he had claimed.
The crowd watched the floor change.
