As the lesson fades, Felicia shifts gears—no longer teaching, but fighting for real.
Her steps turn sharper. Her stance tightens. And just like that—she surges forward, cutting a straight path toward the heart of the ruined academy.
Zombies try to block her path. They don't even last a second.
She mows them down like grass.
Her movements blur past the limits of my perception—faster than sound, faster than thought. I can't even track her arms anymore. All I see is the aftermath: limbs flying, heads rolling, fountains of gore painting the crumbling stone red.
The world spins in chaos, blood, and steel.
And yet—I'm not just sitting back. Not anymore.
Even if my eyes can't follow her…
I focus on feeling her.
On sensing how she channels mana—how it flows through her body, how she molds it with each breath.
No matter how fast she moves, no matter how intense the battle becomes…
She keeps her breathing steady.
Her heart… calm.
