Keeping her attention between the devil they approached and Roshan in the distance, Shayla tried to match their steps. With the chaos of people on the street, it was hard to move at first, but by the time they reached the center, using the abandoned shop stalls as cover, the people thinned considerably. In the wake of her every step, fronds of grass rose through the cobblestones, bursting forth with vibrancy and life. Everything about the magic humming around the dryad woman screamed of birth, rather than death, and she wore this magic like a cloak of protection.

Right, time to end this. Using one of her blade to reflect a bead of light in front of Roshan, she signaled their joint attack. The devil itself seemed not to have noticed them and, in fact, seemed wrapped up in something entirely unseen to her. Hands grasped around its face, it howled, wrestling like it wanted to pull itself out of its body. Golden eyes blazed, alive with a magic that made her heart chill. Even the black spiked armor that could have been made from obsidian with the way it reflected the soft light of Elaria looked like nothing she had seen before.

Shayla charged forward, both of her blades held at the ready, one for an attack, the other protecting her chest because she did not trust. She did not trust that the thing hadn't noticed them. She did not trust that its pale hands that didn't match the black face carried no weapons. Barely two steps in, those golden eyes went bright with realization as they turned to stare right at her.