She couldn't keep relying on chance.
This world was brutal, and it wasn't going to slow down for her to catch up. There would always be stronger monsters. Stronger enemies. And more people to protect.
She clenched her fists.
"I need to control it," she whispered to herself. "No more lucky saves."
She needed to learn how to use the soul realm—not just sucking soul. She needed to figure out how to fight with those shadows, not just pray that they'd appear when she was half-dead.
Because next time, she might not be lucky. And there might be no one left to heal her.
Liora looked up at the ceiling. The cracks on it reminded her of scars. They ran across the wood like silent stories of survival. Just like her.
It wasn't a fantasy world where heroes came to save the day. It was cruel and real. And the only thing standing between her and death… was her own strength.
She would get stronger. She had to. There was no other way.
