Mirim rolled on the floor, dodging the fire and the freeze ray, but she was forced to use the little mana she had left to boost the Featherwalker armor and conjure a barrier to stop the remaining three.
She pressed the emergency rune on her amulet, yet nothing happened.
"I've made sure that no one will interrupt us, dear Marchioness." The blue-robed figure kept pouring one spell after another, forcing Mirim to sacrifice her favorite furniture to save her own life.
The good thing about common items enchanted to last was that they offered a brief but decent protection.
"How did you manage to do this?" She asked in the hope to buy some time.
She had no spell at the ready, little mana, and a battered body whereas her opponent had ambushed her while at his peak condition. Unlike Mirim, he had spent the night in the comfort of his home, waiting for the opportunity to strike at any of those who had received one of his cards.