Cecilia knelt in the protective jelly dome, her cloak and hair plastered to her skin with sweat.
Her hands never stopped moving, fingers weaving through the intricate steps of the teleportation spell formation. The B-rank spell was complex, and the pressure of dozens of armed soldiers circling like wolves gnawed at her focus.
Each time she neared completion, the delicate threads of her mana quivered, threatening to unravel into nothingness.
Her chest tightened. Not again. She bit down on her lip until it bled, tasting copper as she forced her mind back into rhythm.
Her golden eyes flickered down at Noah, still slumped against the floor of the jelly dome. His breathing was shallow, his face pale as death.
'I can't stop here,' she told herself, voice trembling inside her head. 'Not now. Not when he's so close to being safe.'
Oliver's voice from earlier still rang in her ears.
