"The lake..." Tears flowed down Acolyte Diantha's face, "The monster's seal is the lake... My mana cannot... possibly be enough."
Tycondrius grimaced. There was yet another problem that stemmed from his detailed explanations. Diantha keenly understood how daunting her task was to handle alone and how little room she had for error.
She was lost in the formation, her eyes aglow with mana. She could not see how desperately Karodin and Ptolema were fighting against three Lake Eels... and losing. She could not see how yet another Archer in her group's ranged line had fallen. She could not see her senior leader, the old Adept Eugenios, trembling with pain, blood streaming from his ears and nostrils.
Tycon lowered his voice, his tone solemn... "Listen to me, girl."
"I... I hear you, Tactician."
