"Mortals keep asking me why I hold back, as if I'm demeaning them. As if I couldn't be bothered to put my all into it. My reason is simple." Shadow leaps through the tendrils, her eyes pitch-black, sword trailing green mist. Half of the tendrils vanish, leaving behind a few hundred. The remaining tendrils attack Anne's left and right sides as Shadow stalks forwards. "Ever faced a sidhe king or queen on the battlefield? No one has, because if there was, there were no survivors."