Siegfried groaned as he pulled himself from the shattered ice, his breathing ragged. His body was tough, but Zarathorak's hit had rattled him. Still, he refused to fall.
His sharp gaze locked onto me, his expression a mix of frustration, confusion, and something else—dread.
He saw it.
He felt it.
I was no longer the same.
My body hummed with newfound power, Magicore surging like an untamed force of nature. The very air trembled around me, as if the world itself struggled to contain me.
I took another step forward, my aura pressing down on everything.
Veydris, Fafnir, Zarathorak. Frostfang. Even Ingi.
They were strong. Unmatched in their own right. But at this moment…
I was beyond them at that moment.
"Impossible…" Siegfried growled, planting his sword into the ice to keep himself steady. His golden eyes burned with resistance, but deep inside, I could see it—hesitation.
I clenched my fist, feeling the overwhelming surge of "Unbridled" flowing through me.
