Sunlight poured down, Iris's purple hair swaying wildly in the flowing breeze, the wings formed by psychic energy behind her continuously fanning the air currents, causing even the tip of her sword to burst with tiny, sharp wind vortices.
Lyra felt as though an invisible force was pressing her entire body down onto the ground. Even moving her fingers was extremely difficult; let alone lift the sword to point its blade at Iris Kroid, the one above releasing magic.
Metal rustled suddenly. The tiles near her knight's boots cracked and sank, the splashing soil fragments not even having the chance to bounce upward before being pinned down. Some small pieces failed to fully form, crushed directly into powder by immense force.
Due to the viewing angle, the audience in the stands actually saw the battle more clearly than the current Lyra.
