"...Fine," she said.
Finally.
"Then—"
"But I'm coming with you."
I blinked, taking a moment to process her words before letting out, "What?"
"You heard me," Roda said, arms crossed stubbornly. "I'm coming with you to kill her."
"Why would you do that?"
"Do I need to justify myself?" She asked. "She killed my uncle. She wiped out so many of my people in my world. I want to make sure she dies before she can even move a finger in this one."
Fair enough.
I could understand that. Revenge ran deep—especially when the wounds never healed. But that wasn't what worried me.
"Are you even in a condition to fight?" I asked her.
That spell Nevia hit her with wasn't just some flashy lightshow. It took a chunk out of her—physically and mentally. I saw it.
But Roda only shrugged like it was nothing. "I'm still strong. And I'm the Prophetess, remember? I can still pull my weight."
Right… that much was obvious from her hair and her eyes. That white sheen only the Prophetess had.
