No one was able to do a damn thing. Wilma gasped and staggered back, blood splattering. She couldn't speak, her larynx torn apart. It was a miracle she was breathing at all. She tried to hold it back. Blood spilled and she fell to her knees. Slowly, Dasha turned toward Samantha whose expression was full of fear, her magic circle dwindling away from the sudden lack of flowing mana.
"Your focus broke, Samantha," Dasha noted casually, ignoring the gargles of Wilma. "You're the same as before."
A wicked, irate grin spread across Samantha. "And you haven't changed one bit, you arrogant, emotionless bastard." She once again began drawing a magic circle. Halfway through, it broke down. She tried again. Fail. Again. She was met with failure. With failure came fear. "Haa…why isn't it working! Come on, come on!"
