Within the space of a few seconds a clear path of ruined men marked the lady-man's passage.
I turned my head away and still felt my stomach twist at the glimpse of innards and spilled bowels left in the wake.
The figure moved with the unstoppable momentum of a giant rhino, each step possessing more weight and more destruction than the last.
Elsewhere on the field the methods changed.
Ice formed in mid-air without warning—long, jagged shards that launched themselves into the denser knots of bandits.
Men screamed as the cold points punched through leather and flesh and bone, pinning some to the ground and dropping others where they stood.
Almost in the same breath sheets of flame roared up from nowhere, white-hot at the center, and consumed everything they touched.
Clothing, armor, skin, and hair vanished into the fire; what remained afterward was less than ash, only dark smears on the scorched earth.
