Sianor stood at the front line, his posture perfectly straight as waves of soldiers rushed toward him without pause.
His hands rested briefly behind his back before he lifted one with precise control.
Golden light gathered instantly.
Above him, multiple [Solar Lance] constructs formed in a clean, structured formation, each one aligned with exact spacing as if measured beforehand.
Sianor didn't rush. He simply observed the incoming wave for a fraction of a second and then lowered his hand.
The lances fired.
Each one pierced through the charging soldiers, burning straight through their bodies and dropping them mid-motion before they could even react.
The second wave followed immediately after, pushing forward over the fallen without hesitation.
But as they stepped into range... another set of lances formed.
And another.
Sianor repeated the motion with minimal movement, his expression unchanged, his breathing steady.
