The ridge north of the battlefield lit white, and the shockwave hit Serika half a second later with a concussion that rattled her teeth and sent the nearest dwarven shields stumbling sideways.
Earth shattered somewhere beyond the treeline. The sound that followed was heavy enough to e through the ground before it came through the air, a deep concussive impact of armor and flesh meeting at speeds that didn't belong inside mortal bodies.
Then another followed, and another after that, each one shaking the earth harder than the last.
She couldn't see the fight past the ridge, but she could feel it through the bond, which was quickly proving that the girls were given something akin to a hivemind passive ability, an overly prominent perception for those the Bloodfather decided to share his blood with. Quinlan's heartbeat ran hard and steady against the brand on her abdomen, his focus collapsed to a point so narrow that everything on this side of the hill had fallen out of it. The warmth that usually filled it had gone cold and dense, violent fury running beneath.
But she could also tell that he was not losing himself to rage - he was just, for a lack of a better word, fucking livid.
Serika knew that to be the case without a shadow of a doubt because of what her eyes were showing her: pale blue people running toward her and her friends.
Every soul construct he'd summoned was sent down here, to help them contend with the sea of hostiles ambushing their position.
Spectral soldiers held the gaps between her sisters, absorbing charges, covering flanks, throwing themselves at threats with the silent precision Scar had drilled into them. Jasmine's golden legion held the southern line in lockstep. Not a single conjured body faced the ridge where their master fought alone, and every resource, every summoned blade, every ounce of support Quinlan could spare had been aimed at his women while the man whose fight shook the hillside kept nothing for himself.
The warmth that hit Serika's chest came fierce and sudden, because the man she loved was fighting the worst thing on this field alone so they wouldn't have to fight without help.
She could feel the same recognition traveling through the Bloodfather's bond, mark to mark, woman to woman. Every brand on the field pulsed with it, and the pride that answered was unanimous.
Serika's voice pushed through the bond with the blunt certainty she brought to everything she did.
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