The Troll King's left leg regenerated with obscene speed.
The deep gouges Kade had carved into it moments ago began to seal, torn muscle pulling together as if guided by unseen hands. Mangled flesh smoothed over itself, blackened blood congealing and hardening until only warped, discolored scars remained. The monster shifted its weight experimentally, stomped once, and let out a guttural roar that shook rain from shattered windows and rattled loose debris from nearby rooftops.
It was not slowing.
Kade circled the giant, boots splashing through oily pools of blood and rainwater. His twin xiphos stayed low and ready, blades angled for joints and tendons rather than killing blows. Around him, his hunters moved as one. The assassin vanished and reappeared at the edges of the monster's reach. The ranger repositioned with smooth, economical steps, arrows already nocked. The spearman adjusted distance instinctively, always just outside the arc of that devastating club.
