Ace's POV
The sun beat down on the golden wheat fields, the wind whispering through the stalks like a thousand hushed voices. Ray, a blur of fur and muscle, methodically packed apples into a wooden box. The sweet scent of ripe fruit warred with the earthy aroma of the tilled soil, a stark contrast to the tension that hung heavy in the air, thick and suffocating as a summer storm.
"What are you gawking at? Focus on the fight!" Aldrin snarled his voice, a low growl that vibrated through the air. He whipped his magic chain, a blur of steel, towards me. I ducked, the chain whistling past my ear, the wind of its passage ruffling my hair. He followed with a powerful kick aimed at my chest. I met it with my sword, the impact jarring my arms, a shockwave traveling up to my shoulders. I stumbled back, my breath catching in my throat, a taste of blood warming my tongue. This wasn't a sparring match; this was a fight for survival.
