The Queen's bravado continued to falter under Noah's oppressiveness. Deep down she knew, if she allowed him to finish his transformation, then her life would be forfeit.
Her steps grew hesitant, caught between the instinct to flee and the desperate need to strike him down before it was too late. Fear gnawed at her resolve, but then a fleeting thought crystallized into a decision. In battles like this, the one who held the upper hand often found themselves at a critical juncture where a well-timed, decisive blow could turn the tide. She recalled how Noah had managed to destroy three of her limbs during her ascension to a greater power, and how she herself had used the brief respite during the slimes' merging to accumulate enough power for her next strike.
