When Hadjar turned around, her glaive’s blade was angled toward the ground, and the cutting edge faced him. It was a sure sign that a battle couldn’t be avoided, but it would be a fair battle that happened between two warriors who didn’t feel anger toward each other, and instead simply had a duty to fulfill.
She looked much better than Hadjar himself did, but the guardian had indeed suffered in that whirlwind of energy and Therna. Shimmering blood trickled down her left temple, and several plates on her armor had been torn out, exposing her silky skin and tattoos.
“The power you used,” she said thoughtfully, as if neither her wounds nor the situation bothered her. “It isn’t the power of the gods, demons, Spirits, or the World Rivers. What is it?”
It wasn’t difficult to guess that she
