Arielle soared high above the battlefield, the wind whipping against her face as Aquila carried her through the sky with breathtaking speed.
From up here, she could see everything—the clashing armies, the blood-soaked battlefield, and the chaos unfolding below.
Despite the roars of battle and the explosions shaking the ground, she remained completely focused.
She had a job to do.
Even as arrows and spells were fired at her from below, they were laughably ineffective.
The mercenaries trying to shoot her down were Silver or Gold Rank at best—far too weak to land a fatal hit on Aquila.
Their attacks either missed entirely or glanced off the Griffin's golden feathers, leaving no damage whatsoever.
She smirked.
"Idiots."
Still, she wasn't careless.
Every now and then, she commanded Aquila to dive, swooping low so she could cut down a few foes with precise, deadly strikes before quickly ascending back to safety.
She never let her guard down.
And then—
