It looked like the work of a high-level mage, the kind of instantaneous and overwhelming force that turned living flesh to liquid without leaving time for even a proper scream.
I twisted my neck in every direction, scanning the roof of the wagon, the surrounding grass, the nearest stands of trees, searching for the caster who must have been responsible.
I found no one who looked capable of such a thing. There was no raised staff or glowing hands.
I heard no chant, nor did I see any visible circle of power.
Only the girls standing in a loose line and the growing confusion among the bandits.
"Listen, Old fart…"
The ponytail woman called Zanya spoke as she dropped lightly from the wagon roof and began walking forward toward the startled bandits.
The rest of her group moved with her, spreading into a loose but purposeful line across the road.
"Never underestimate a lady again, or you'll join that perverted bandit, understand?"
Don't tell me… Are these girls truly powerful?
