Lithe and powerful thighs traced an arc in the air, akin to a blade cleaving or a heavy hammer sweeping. The seemingly frail flesh struck the cold, hard armor, emitting a chilling, deep rumble.
The man who was sent flying seven or eight meters away by a kick struggled to get up, removed his helmet, and forced a compliment onto his face full of palpitations: "Lord Marlowe, you are becoming stronger and stronger. In my understanding, no one could possess such formidable strength on the Crystal Staircase."
"..."
Seraphina slowly retracted her leg, feeling neither complacency nor joy from the compliment, her gaze even somewhat gloomy.
"Seraphina," Marlina, dignified in appearance, appeared at the entrance of the courtyard, "Are you done here?"
"... Mm."
Seraphina nodded, walked to the man who was ostensibly her sparring partner but had been beaten by her all along, and patted his shoulder: "You've been a great help, thank you."
