Time slowed down as Cassandra breathed in deeply, tightly gripping her katana. She opened her eyes and saw the three bandit youths rushing towards her, their daggers and swords pointing straight at her breast. They moved as if they were submerged in molasses, a by product of Cassandra's hyperfocus. With a smooth, elegant motion, she unsheathed her sword and sidestepped their clumsy strikes, her blade dancing as it sliced through their slender necks. Their heads tumbled to the ground as their bodies crumpled, shivering and jerking, twitching and spurting bright red blood. Cassandra wiped the blood off her sword and slipped it back into her sheath.