Inside the battered carriage, a brief silence hung as the dust of the explosion drifted through the cracks in the wood. The students, cheeks flushed with adrenaline, turned as one and gave Chief Varros a collective thumbs-up. Their eyes gleamed with a strange mixture of confidence and shared purpose.
Chief Varros, his chest still heaving from the effort of conjuring that mighty blast, lowered his sword slightly. The light that shimmered along its blade flickered like the last embers of a fire, but he held it steady. He offered them a wry, exhausted smile. "That wasn't all I had," he said, his voice rough. "I've enough mana left for maybe… fifteen more of those blasts before this cursed magic circle drains me dry."
The students exchanged quick glances. Ruvin grinned and gave a short nod. "Fifteen's more than enough, sir."
Varros blinked at them, surprised by their certainty. "Are you sure you need me to keep burning my strength like that? Are you certain?"
