SORCERER CHINGU

[HE'S NOT a small fry.]

That was Neoma's conclusion while Skewer clashed with Dilan Crowell's scythe.

Their blades didn't clash literally, though. The energy waves their weapons produced every time they swung them were the ones colliding with one another. Each collision created a tremor in the sky.

But she knew clashing with her blade was nothing more than a distraction.

"Hah," Neoma said, letting out a frustrated sigh. "You crow bastard. How long are you going to disrespect me?"

Dilan Crowell raised an eyebrow at her, and he looked confused for real. "Whatever Your Royal Highness mean by that?"

"Clashing with my blade while sneakily gathering your Mana above…" She shook her head, then she looked up at the night sky. "You sorcerers are really crafty."

Meteorites.

Hundreds of meteorites were suspended in the air, waiting to plummet to the ground.