Two hours later, Wonder Woman sat on the broken throne, binding the Warlord’s wounds with a strip of her own cloak. His hands were chained—not by steel, but by the lasso, now glowing soft and warm around his wrists.
His sword trembled.
She did not strike. She did not bind him. She simply stood there—truth incarnate, not as a weapon, but as a mirror. Wonder Woman Vs Warlord Part 2