The lingering residue of sword arcs and raw killing intent still danced on the air like phantom blades, sharp enough to prickle skin. She squinted slightly.
"A bit wasteful, but… well, that's not my problem."
Then, her voice rose playfully, almost mockingly.
"Haa... seems like I have to go. I've lingered too long."
The masked man's frown deepened. Without wasting time, he lunged forward, blade glinting with elemental energy. But Martina barely moved her upper body—she let his blade graze past her side, as if dancing with it, her body gliding effortlessly like silk in the wind.
She whispered, "Too slow."
Then, she kicked the ground creating a crater underneath.
BOOM!
She shot upward, a blur of white and blue, soaring past scaffolding and twisted pillars. The masked man cursed and chased after her, his cloak flaring behind him as he leapt across ruined cranes and broken ledges.
