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... harge at Seojun, eyes wild, her scissor-like weapon glowing with unstable mana. Minseok stood beside her, equally shaken, "She's not in control—stop her! Master, please!"

But Seojun didn't strike back.

He kept stepping aside with ease, dodging each swing as Nayoung slashed through the air with raw emotion behind every strike, her breathing fast, her movements reckless, as if trying to release everything she had felt—fear, anger, helplessness—all of it pouring into her weapon.

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*
paypal.me/JInDaoran

*
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