She was tall. Blonde. Her hair, long and golden, fell in waves to her shoulders. Her body, curvaceous and full, was the body of a woman who had been blessed by genetics and magic. Her breasts, large and heavy, strained against her uniform. Her hips, wide and curved, made the uniform skirt look inadequate. Her face, beautiful and cold, was the face of a woman who knew she was better than everyone else and acted accordingly.
Her name was Seraphina. Seraphina Voss. The president of the women's section of Class A. The daughter of a baron whose territory bordered the dark elf lands. The woman whose father had been killed by dark elf raiders. The woman who hated, with every fiber of her being, the race that had taken her father from her.
She saw the dark elf. Her eyes, blue and cold, went hard. The hatred, instant and total, was visible on her face. The flush, the one that came with fury, crept up her neck.
