The Master-rank elites moved as one.
Blades, spears, and enchanted weapons lunged straight for Charlotte—aimed at her heart, her throat, her eyes, her stomach. The air whistled with killing intent as steel and mana cut through the space she stood in.
Regina watched, a cruel smile stretching across her face. "It's over," she whispered.
The weapons struck.
For a moment, it looked like every strike had pierced through Charlotte—steel buried in her chest, a spearhead where her heart should be, a blade seeming to run straight through her skull.
But then—
Charlotte took a step forward.
The weapons that looked like they had skewered her… passed right through her body as if she were nothing but a mirage.
Not a drop of blood spilled.
Not a wound appeared.
The elites staggered, eyes widening in horror. They pulled their weapons back and slashed at her again and again, but every strike slipped through her as though she was made of fog and shadow.
Charlotte kept walking.
