As the descendant of the Sword Saint, I was naturally gifted with great vitality and strength; natural trait of my clan. The characteristic of the Saint Jean D' Arc. Hence, when it comes to battle of raw strength and even with the use of abilities, I stood atop the totem pole. As long as I held a sword, no one alive could best in in battle.
However, on that one fateful day, I've received a wound—a reminder that there was an entity even more powerful than I. A wound that served as a mark of very my first defeat.
"Now then, what should we do?"
The situation here seems to be bleaker than the last time this exact thing happened. The last time this outburst transpired, this boy left a scar on me, Alfreeja, in the face.
"Gleren…" I called solemly.
