Whoosh!
Cypher swung Fendral in a fluid arc, the blade twisting upward at an unnatural angle—a technique he'd honed after studying Remillia's curving daggers. The elegant maneuver sliced through the air, dispatching the last Rogue with a decisive strike that left the Rogue crumpling to the ground.
Whitney let out a heavy sigh, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. "They just keep coming," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
Edge glanced over, his spear still in hand as he casually wiped it clean on the edge of his cloak. "Whitney, are you okay?" he asked, his voice steady, almost indifferent, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of concern.
"Yeah, thanks to you," she replied, her face etched with fatigue but softened by a sweet, grateful smile that lit up her weary eyes.
"I'm glad," Edge replied simply, sheathing his weapon with a practiced motion.
