The forest trembled under the weight of hissing voices. Isolde stood tall among the trees, her hand brushing her raven hair back from her face, emerald eyes fixed on the shadows ahead. She had known this day would come. Carrying one of the keystones was like carrying fire in her chest—it called enemies as surely as a beacon.
The Black Serpents slithered into view, cloaked and twisting, their scaled limbs flexing with unnatural hunger.
"Isolde…" the leader hissed. "The keystone is wasted on you. Surrender it, and we might spare that pretty body."
Isolde smiled faintly, almost amused. "My body isn't as fragile as you think."
To prove her point, she raised her arm. The skin split without pain, and a blade of pure steel jutted out, dripping her blood like molten mercury. She tore it free, and her flesh knitted itself back instantly around the wound, leaving only a faint sheen. Her entire body was forged hard as adamantium—unyielding, indestructible, and every inch a weapon.
The first Serpent lunged. His fangs sank into her shoulder, but instead of tearing flesh, his teeth cracked against unbreakable muscle and bone. He screamed, his jaw snapping in two.
"Fools," Isolde muttered. From her other arm, two daggers burst forth, gleaming like liquid moonlight. She spun them without handles, her fingers bleeding but unshaken, and cut the Serpent down before he hit the ground.
More poured in. Six, then ten. They clawed, they struck—but her body did not yield. Their blades scraped against her skin with a sound like steel on steel, sparks flying. Each wound they inflicted healed almost instantly, each cut only birthing another blade from her body.
She became a storm of steel, tearing through them in brutal arcs. Every step she took left blood—her own mixed with theirs—splattering the dirt, but her breathing was calm, steady, unafraid.
Finally, the leader hissed louder, his form swelling with dark power. "You cannot hold forever, girl! We are endless!"
Isolde's eyes narrowed. Her torso split open at the ribs, birthing a massive greatsword, jagged and glowing faintly with the keystone's power. She wrenched it free with both hands, the edges humming with destructive force.
Her voice was cold, resolute. "Endless or not… you'll break before I do."
With that, she charged into their ranks, blades and fire lighting the night.