'Roughly ten minutes. That's all I got before the rest of them get back to their feet,' Adrian mused upon checking the status of the heroes.
Meanwhile, it seemed Rowan had finally gotten serious about Adrian. A cold breeze blew, gently tugging his long black hair, tied in a ponytail, as he adjusted the grip on his katana.
A thin, murderous smile curled on his lips as his blade shimmered with a faint aura. It was the strength bestowed upon one of the seven rare classes in Nexaria.
The aura surrounding Rowan's blade was weak because of his weak mana, an after-effect of Libra's attack. Still, it was strong enough to manifest before their naked eyes, alerting Adrian.
Suddenly, Rowan lunged forward with a lightning-quick strike, aiming for Adrian's chest. The latter deftly parried the blow, but Rowan wasn't done.
