Leslie's senses had never failed her before. A warrior always trusts their senses, and she was no exception. That young man on the ground had something special, something that felt familiar to her. Her eyes lit up fiercely as she felt an uncontrollable rage growing inside her. For some reason, it felt as if she herself had been stabbed, seeing the young man groan in pain, covered in his own blood…
A sword appeared in her hand… her body moved unconsciously. Wielding the sword, she quickly blocked the blade of the young man who was trying to kill him.
The young man with wheat-colored hair frowned:"What are you doing?" he asked the young man, seeing Leslie's sword block his own.
Leslie felt lost again. The emotions of rage vanished once more. She frowned for a moment herself."I... don't know."
Now even she didn't know why she was angry, or why she was defending the young man on the ground. Her body had moved on its own…
Feeling lost…
