In the forest, a fair distance from where Elizabeth's fierce battle had just ended, another storm brewed under the fading sun.
Within the thick canopy, where shadows stretched long and the light barely reached, crimson orbs blinked in the darkness. Pearls of blood, glowing silently like watching spirits.
Arianne stood at their center.
Unshaken. Untouched.
Her eyes empty.
The forest trembled with magic.
Her long snow hair fluttered gently in the wind, and her crimson eyes glowed faintly beneath the flickering sunlight. Around her lay broken branches, cracked earth, and three cadets who still refused to give up.
They formed a loose triangle around her, breathing heavily. Two held swords, and one held a long silver spear. All three looked tense, sweat dripping down their faces.
Arianne didn't move.
One of them—the one with the spear—finally broke the silence. With a shout, he charged.
