CRACK!
A thin sheet of ice shot across the path ahead of Lucavion—its edges crystalline, the frost blooming unnaturally fast along the ground like a river flash-frozen in motion. He halted, boots skidding slightly before he shifted his weight and found balance.
His eyes narrowed immediately.
"That spell…" he muttered.
A basic field manipulation technique. Glacier Vein. Two-star, at best. Low-range, weak in power, barely more than a nuisance in most duels.
Except this one had traveled nearly twice its normal distance.
Lucavion turned, slowly.
His expression twisted into irritation, brows drawn low, jaw tight.
"Are you really asking for a fight right now?" he said, his voice clipped with disbelief—and a warning underneath.
Across from him, Elara stood poised, hand lowered after the spell, her stance calm.
She didn't flinch beneath his gaze.
Instead, she lowered her eyes for half a second, just enough to suggest acknowledgment. Not regret—just understanding.
