Panic and despair replaced their earlier aggression. Those who had considered fleeing now found themselves trapped, shivering puppets within a frigid theater. Some, overcome by the sheer power of the domain, collapsed outright, their bodies succumbing to the relentless cold. Others, driven by fear and survival instinct, lashed out blindly, their attacks easily deflected by Maria's swift blades.
She moved amongst them like a wraith, a whirlwind of chilling steel and frosted elegance. Each strike was precise and calculated, sending enemies crashing onto the unforgiving ice, their moans and pleas swallowed by the growing chorus of the wind. This wasn't a dance of wanton destruction, but a calculated display of power, a message etched in ice and fear: resistance was futile.
Maria mercilessly slaughtered the enemy. Her eyes were cold, ruthless only thinking of the future of her loved ones and in order to protect this future she mustn't falter and show pity here.
