As Marian stared at Allison in shock, her gaze shifted downward to the blade still in her hand. Only now did she notice something peculiar—the weapon was disintegrating, its sleek, deadly form dissolving into nothing but faint, glowing particles that vanished into the air.
"What...?" Marian gasped, her voice filled with confusion and panic. "How is this possible?"
Enel chuckled softly, his tone laced with mockery. "You really are quite stupid, Marian."
Her head snapped toward him, her face twisting in anger. "What did you do?"
Enel folded his arms, leaning casually against the wall. "I suspected you long before we boarded this craft," he began, his voice calm but brimming with smug satisfaction. "When you were to board the craft, I whispered to Lana, instructing her to disarm you."
Marian's eyes widened, her mind racing. "Disarm me? But my blade—"
