In the dense forest night, the bright campfire flickered, casting Alan's shadow long across the ground.
Watching the crimson powder scatter in the air, Alan's expression turned cold as he angled his staff-sword horizontally.
The wide blade swung forward like a fan, creating a gust of wind that sent the powder back towards its source.
Janes was just about to breathe a sigh of relief, only to find herself stunned by the boy's quick reaction.
Before she could fully grasp the situation, Alan's blade was already closing in on her throat, sending a chill down her spine as she reflexively activated her wind element to dodge to the side.
Whoosh!
The sound of the sword slicing through the air echoed, splitting falling leaves into two.
At the last moment, Janes rolled aside, narrowly evading a deadly strike.
She stabilized herself on the ground, her peach-blossom eyes glaring angrily at Alan.