Magma, threaded with streaks of black flame, flowed gently down the mountain, engulfing all life on the desolate island.
At that moment, an Elf Knightess with golden hair, like a bullet, charged towards the peak, her splendid swords twirling with lightning powerful enough to cleave the mountain itself.
Her emerald eyes reflected the image of the Knight in silver armor at the summit—the man who had slain her lord.
"Ahtal!" she roared in anger. Her swords, enveloped in lightning, struck down, unleashing a bolt that obliterated the Knight in silver armor atop the peak.
However.
The Elf Knightess saw it.
In that lightning-engulfed peak, the Knight in silver armor gave her a cold look, his eyes faintly blazing with flames.
This man was so arrogant.
The Elf Knightess instinctively tightened her grip on her swords, only to find her arms—and then her whole body—enwrapped in black flames.
