Without warning, without so much as a flicker of emotion crossing her face, Kali's sword palm slashed out at sheer light speeds.
The movement was so fast that it seemed to bend the very fabric of space-time, leaving afterimages that burned themselves into the retinas of all who witnessed it.
Explosions rumbled through the air as a sword of divine ice light blasted straight towards the Rocs. The attack was a thing of terrible beauty, a crystalline embodiment of destruction that seemed to sing as it cut through the air. It was as if Kali had taken a sliver of winter itself and forged it into a weapon of unimaginable power.
The man and woman of the Roc clan gritted their teeth, their earlier bravado faltering in the face of this unexpected onslaught. They had believed they could resist better now that they were surging their True Dao Phantoms, but doubt began to creep into their minds like a poisonous mist.