Stalker or... Secret Admirer

Cassandra crossed her arms, her eyes fixed on Strax, who stood shirtless in front of her, sweat still dripping from his body after an intense training session. Her tone was firm, almost critical, as she examined every detail of his posture.

"Your control over mana has improved," she began, her evaluative tone giving the impression that a scolding was imminent, "but your mastery over your own body is pathetic. You move as if you don't know what you're doing."

Strax raised an eyebrow, visibly annoyed by the comment. "I don't have much experience in battle. I've only been cultivating for less than a year," he replied. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Well, it's been a year now," recalling the time he spent fighting Lithara in the Abyssal Castle.

Cassandra's arms tightened against her chest as her expression shifted to one of incredulity. Her typically stern demeanor faltered momentarily as she processed what he had just said.