Kyle stepped forward, ready to intercept the monster.
But a voice called out—firm, noble, unmistakable.
"Kyle."
He halted. Turned.
Grand Duchess Amane stood tall amid the chaos, blood on her cheek and her silver mantle tattered from mana blast backlash. Her violet eyes didn't waver.
"Go. Focus on the shard. That's your mission."
Kyle's gaze flicked to the monster, then back to her. "That thing is going to tear through your entire line."
She inclined her head.
"Then we'll hold the line."
For a moment, the wind howled around them, carrying the stench of burnt mana and death. Kyle's expression hardened.
"If you fall—"
"I won't. And neither will they. We are not helpless."
She said, turning to the scattered soldiers behind her.
There was no time to argue. Kyle gave her a final glance, then turned away—vanishing toward the shard in a blur of light and wind.
As soon as he disappeared, murmurs broke out among the soldiers.
"Is she serious?"
