Elder Xue's composure shattered like fragile glass under the weight of Lucavion's taunt. Her cold fury surged into action, and without hesitation, she thrust her hand forward, aiming for his neck with precise, deadly intent.
The movement was blindingly fast, a burst of power befitting her rank and authority. Gasps erupted from the patrons in the inn as the air seemed to hum with the energy of her strike. Lucavion, however, remained rooted in place, his expression unwavering even as her hand closed the distance.
CLANG!
The sharp sound of metal against metal reverberated through the room, startling everyone. A thin, gleaming blade had intercepted Elder Xue's strike, its point hovering mere inches from Lucavion's throat. Mariel Farlon stood between them, her eyes cold and calculating, her sword poised with the same calm precision she was famed for.
"This," Mariel said, her voice low and firm, "is my inn. And no one raises a hand against my guests under this roof."
