"Huff… uff…"
Sera exhaled faint trails of frost as she panted.
Her trembling hand gripped the hilt of her C-rank sword, its faint blue enchantments flickering weakly. She held it pointed straight ahead, though her arms quivered from fatigue.
"No way…" Fiona muttered, standing calmly a few paces away. "Are you really the commander? There's not even an ounce of aura in you."
Her eyes narrowed, suspicion gleaming in them. Something's off. Is this a setup? Is this girl even Lydia? she thought.
Sera bit her lower lip, frustration and fear twisting inside her. Then she swung her sword in a sharp burst, frost mana exploding from the blade. A wave of ice shot forward in a cone, freezing the red sand between them into glittering shards.
