Lydia's breath came fast and sharp as she weaved through the labyrinth's shifting walls, her every step measured and precise.
Lucas was relentless.
He moved like a phantom, gliding through the maze with an unnatural grace, his dual blades flashing like silver streaks in the dim light.
Lydia had faced plenty of speed-based opponents before, but Lucas was on another level.
Each time she tried to create distance, he was already behind her.
Each time she threw a dagger, he dodged with ease—his wind magic guiding his every step.
"You're fast," Lucas admitted, his voice an amused whisper carried by the wind. "But not fast enough."
Before Lydia could react, he vanished.