The clearing was a mess—scorched earth, bloodstains, and the stench of burnt mana thick in the air. But it wasn't over.
Not yet.
Class B's second team was still standing.
Bruised.
Bloodied.
But far from broken.
They were regrouping, their mana surging as they closed ranks.
"Damn it," Julien muttered, wiping blood from his mouth. "They just don't quit."
"Neither do we," I murmured, my cane still humming with residual mana.
We couldn't afford to stop.
"Felix," I called softly.
"Still here," Felix muttered, his hands trembling but his fireball steady. Wallace was behind him, barely staying upright.
"Leo?"
"Alive," Leo whispered, but his voice was distant.
The tether was still there. Weak, but not gone.
Later.
I couldn't deal with that now.
"Wallace, how much mana do you have left?"
"Enough for… one good cast," Wallace rasped, sweat dripping down his face.
"Save it," I murmured.
We'd need it.
Julien, Mira, and I stood at the front.
