Ashvril was in an intense battle, but Balende wasn't in the mood to care for her well being because at this moment, he couldn't even ensure his safety. He wielded the heavy sword in his hand, the crimson radiance glowing from his eyes under the helmet flickering all of a sudden. If he weren't an undead without the ability to sweat, he would be drenched in panicky sweat by now!
As one of the four legendary generals, Balende had witnessed all sorts of mysterious and strange happenings. But now, he swore by his name that he had never seen such an odd battle style. It was especially so for this young lady in front of him, as he sensed an indescribable, massive pressure from her. Although she didn't say a word, she hovered before him, leaning back slightly while a tome floated in front of her. At a single glance, she wasn't any different from the deliberately mystifying spell casters. But Balende remembered clearly the disturbing scene from a few moments ago.
