Rain had ceased hours before, but puddles still dotted the town square where Corde hez Iralev stood. Puddles filled with vantablack ichor as much as water. Her breathing remained fairly controlled despite hours of combat and the limited stains on her blue battle dress and travel cloak was barely evidence.
Of the seven dozen lesser Voidlings she'd dispatched by herself since dawn, a quarter of them alone had fallen in the last little while. But now, the three Intermediate-class entities leading them against her stood at the edges of the square. Humanoid forms rippled with void essence as they assessed her with cold white fire-eyes.
