A fireball crashed into the dirt. A pair of wolf beasts leapt over it, aiming for Rashira. She rolled back, used a Wind spell, and sent them tumbling.
Serena's short blades spun like a comet, while Seyvr now floated several feet above the ground, weaving glyphs mid-air.
Their synergy was tight—but not unbreakable. Fatigue was creeping in. There were too many enemies.
And then—
A burst of air as someone landed hard behind enemy lines.
Corrin.
Dirt scattered around his boots. He cracked his neck once, fingers curling over the hilt of his crescent blade.
Before the closest attacker could react, Corrin had already closed the distance.
Whirl!
The blade snapped forward and hit the hilt on his head. With a swift leap, Corrin stomped the boy unconscious and spun the blade back into rhythm.
The boy turned into motes of while and got eliminated.
Corrin grinned.
"Now this is a party," he said to no one in particular.
