Arthur stood at the edge of the makeshift battlefield, his eyes glued to his little sister, Lily, as she tore through the horde of slimes. Her movements were fluid and precise, each strike of her flaming twin swords slicing through the gelatinous creatures with a combination of skill and fury. Arthur's fingers twitched with a restless energy as he watched her, ready to spring into action if she needed him. But he knew better than to intervene without reason. This was her fight. She had asked for it, and he needed to trust her.
He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay still. He could see the determination on Lily's face, the focused glint in her eyes as she wielded her blades with confidence. Every now and then, a slime would get closer than Arthur liked, and his instinct was to jump in, to protect her like he always had. But he held back. He had to.
"She can handle this," he muttered to himself, almost like a mantra. "She said she could do it."
