Cecelia's Strategy
Her eyes swept across the battlefield in a single, practiced glance, taking in every movement.
The first bear was slowing—its breathing ragged, its steps heavy. Rea's strikes are wearing it down.
Linden's opponent was still fast, weaving in and out of their attacks like a shadow. Too mobile… hard to pin down.
And the third bear… the one she faced… its gaze was locked on her, its muscles tense, ready to spring.
She could feel the sting of her earlier wounds, but she knew—injured or not—she was still dangerous.
"I need to break their rhythm before they overwhelm us."
Cecelia's knees bent slightly as she leaned against a moss-covered rock, her breath coming in short, heated bursts.
Sweat trickled down her temple, and her arms felt heavier with each passing second. The constant clash against the bears was draining, and her mana reserves were running thin.
