"Ha…ha…"
Seraphina struggled mightily as she advanced across the expansive lawn of the Hydral Manor, her visage twisted in determination.
Her muscles quivered incessantly, and her slender legs seemed as though they could never straighten again with each bend. The tall, fair-faced young lady's cheeks were drenched in sweat, and the bulging veins on her neck testified to the immense pressure she was enduring.
Not far away, the trio of pact heads from Flamelle observed the advancing Miss Wolf step by step.
"It's always remarkable to witness," Lawrence, perched on Tyrus, the head of strength''s shoulder and stroking his long whiskers, marveled. "Miss Seraphina's talent and spirit are, perhaps, unreasonably formidable, aren't they?"
