Trafalgar collapsed onto the stone floor, chest heaving with ragged breaths. His muscles burned, and his mana swirled inside his core like a storm. Facing a monster one rank above him had drained every ounce of strength he had.
'Damn it… throwing myself at a Pulse Core when I'm barely halfway through Spark… I'm not invincible. If Cynthia hadn't been here, I'd be roasted ash by now.'
He tilted his head just enough to see her. Cynthia walked a few steps behind him, bow still in hand, her face as calm as if the fight with the Infernal Warden had barely cost her a drop of sweat.
'Third Core… no, she's close to the Fourth already. At this pace, she'll leave me two cores behind. Sixteen years old, orphan, no backing… how the hell does someone like her get this strong? She must have a monstrous talent, even greater than her brother's. Bartholomew is valuable as an ally because of his class, but she's dangerous in her own way.'
