Kyle stood at the edge of the crater, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths.
Beside him, Sylvie bent forward, one hand pressed against her knee, the other clutching her staff for balance.
Her face was pale, her breaths ragged from pouring nearly all her mana into that last spell.
"You did well"
Kyle said quietly, though his eyes never left the beast thrashing below.
The mammoth raged at the bottom of the pit, its enormous frame heaving as its wounds tried to close.
Blood glistened wet across its black and white fur, yet already, the torn flesh began to knit together.
The cyclone of wind swirling around it was weaker now, unstable, but still there.
If they gave it time, it would recover. And they would never never get a chance like this.
Kyle's jaw tightened.
'We have to finish this now.'
A sharp gust stirred as Lyra appeared at his side, emerald light already glowing in her hands.
