Roselyn nodded sharply through the telepathic link, her determination cutting through the chaos like a blade.
She immediately adjusted her trajectory, launching herself toward her current target, the Third Born, with renewed focus.
Her golden braid whipped behind her as she closed the distance in a blur, her fists already glowing with that familiar radiant energy.
Instead of wild, sweeping punches to the torso, she began aiming specifically for the neck: short, precise strikes that targeted the vulnerable juncture where grey flesh met the base of the skull.
When that proved difficult, she shifted to deep, penetrating thrusts toward the chest; driving her knuckles in like spears, seeking whatever core or vital point might lie hidden beneath the rippling clay-like surface.
Claire mirrored the shift almost instantly, her ever-changing blades adapting to the new priority.
One moment her weapon was a long, elegant sword that she swept in wide arcs to keep the Fourth Born at bay.
