Sorry. Not Sorry.

"Screw you to Hel, murderess!" [Caster] fire seared out with Corazón's flared voice.

The white-frocked witch moved her head at the very last second, so much that it gave Israfel pause; ordinary witches weren't that fast. Even a Master Magess of Corynthia had to be well equipped with [Dark Vice] to store up that much mana in their core for such vampiric speed abilities. Cora's angry ball of fire went past Constance's head. It whizzed, crashing with a jolt into the glass walls south of the hotel suite.

It shattered on impact. Shards rained down hard and heavily. With the force of an exploding blast, the merge of cosmic fire with the glasspane rattled the evergreen floors in the room. The furniture jumped and the islandic painting over the brass mantle hit the ground. It spoke plenty about the sheer packing force behind Cora's fireball.

"Duck!"