Élisa's POV
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Before they even realized it, not a single enemy was left standing.
Élisa was the last to finish off a demonling, driving both daggers into the creature's temples as it writhed on the ground. It spasmed one last time… then went still.
But at that exact moment, a high-pitched whistle split the air.
Élisa hit the ground in a feral reflex.
The whip sliced through the space just above her head and cracked farther off, with a sharp snap as violent as a gunshot.
Her eyes widened in horror. She sprang up, frantically searching for Dylan and Maggie.
And what she saw froze her in place.
Farther away, Dylan stood upright, a deep red gash slashed across his chest. His machete was split in two — sliced clean, like butter. His eyes looked distant, stunned. Maggie, meanwhile, had thrown herself flat just in time.
But all around them…
The trees.
Sliced in half, as if made of paper.
