Gasping for breath, Vector's feet pounded against the forest floor as he desperately fled towards its edge. His wounded body protested with each step, his hand clutching his stomach where the earlier battle had left him injured. Panic surged through his veins as he replayed the unraveling of his carefully devised plan. "Darn it, this wasn't how it was supposed to go! How did it go so wrong?" His thoughts raced, mirroring his frantic pace.
In his haste, he glanced back over his shoulder, sweat mingling with the blood on his brow. His eyes widened at the sight that greeted him – Leona, a whirlwind of lethal grace, carving her way through the other adventurers with calculated precision. Her blade moved like an extension of her very being, a dance of death that left no room for mercy. It was a stark reminder of his miscalculations, his underestimation of the forces he sought to oppose.
