The Frost Chamber echoed with the clash of steel against ritual daggers. Bodies of cultists and fallen guards littered the corridor, testament to the ferocity of the ongoing battle. Alexandra pressed her advantage against two cultists, her blade moving with lethal precision despite the absence of mana enhancement. Her White Lion training had prepared her for scenarios where energy enhancement failed, honing physical skills that many practitioners neglected.
"Fall back to secondary position," she ordered the three remaining Lionhart guards. Blood ran from a gash on her forehead, partially obscuring her vision, but her strikes never faltered.
The cultists fought with unnerving coordination, their movements enhanced by amber energy that should have been impossible under the null field's effect. Each bore identical ritual scars across their faces—the mark of Icarus etched into flesh through painful devotion.
