The crowd exchanged nervous whispers. "She can summon… but those beasts are weak compared to true war-monsters," one spectator muttered. "Still—taming an ogre is nothing to scoff at. If she isn't exposed after this, kings may come calling."
Linda didn't listen to them. She nocked an arrow, drew the string, and launched herself into the fray. Two towering ogres lumbered forward, each gripping a massive club that could crush a man with a single blow. Their footfalls cracked the arena sand like thunder.
As they swung, Linda readied herself. She could see their tells now—muscle tenses, the way the club rose—every motion slowed by her enhanced senses. She rolled under the first swing, letting the club whistle over her head, then sprang up and fired a clean arrow into the ogre's waist. The missile buried deep; the creature staggered but did not fall.
