The heat of the dune pressed against Luca's back as he crouched low, his crimson eyes flicking between the Saintess and the maddened sea of cultists below. His grip on his saber tightened until his knuckles whitened. He turned to her sharply.
"Don't you have any plan? You're the one who brought us here."
The Saintess, unbothered by his frustration, only tilted her head slightly, her silver eyes gleaming with a serene, almost smug confidence. Her lips curved into a soft smile.
"Of course I have a plan."
Luca's brows furrowed. "…Then?"
"We will just stay here as it is."
The words landed like a stone in the sand. Both Luca and Eric stared at her, dumbfounded.
Eric blinked once, then twice, as though he'd misheard. Luca's jaw clenched in disbelief.
