After Cliff took off toward Aurora, only Beriel, Hildanor, and Mathilde remained, motionless, staring at the Manticore without attacking. Further away, Kido was wreaking havoc in the enemy ranks, his jian tracing deadly arcs at an inhuman speed.
Beriel stepped forward. His vertical, reptilian-yellow pupils fixed on the Manticore with an unsettling intensity. Yet the creature remained relaxed, almost amused.
"What drives you to rush things? You have nothing to gain from this, except your own death."
His voice was low, calm, but as sharp as a well-honed blade. Slowly, he reached out to the black staff floating at his side. The weapon slid into his palm before he drew a long, slender, dark sword, its edge gleaming with a menacing glow.
"You took a risk coming here, knowing my father could intervene. And if he did… you wouldn't stand a chance."
The Manticore let out a guttural growl, a sound that resembled laughter but was far more sinister.
