Frustrated, the white-haired mage bit her finger, letting her blood flow onto her staff. The crimson liquid glowed as it seeped into the wood, and the lightning bolts intensified, striking with greater ferocity.
Several warriors began to falter, unable to withstand the relentless barrage. But as the mage reveled silently in her triumph, a sharp hand chop struck the back of her neck. Her eyes widened in shock as she staggered forward and collapsed. The storm of lightning subsided instantly.
From the shadows emerged a woman with short black hair, her slender figure exuding a quiet yet deadly grace.
Despite her long retirement, the black-haired woman's beauty and figure remained striking. Dusting her hands as if nothing had happened, she glanced at the fallen mage at her feet. "Rebecca, your downfall has always been your carelessness."
