A chime echoed across the battlefield. It was a strange, melodic tone like a bell made of light.
The Guardian froze mid-swing.
Emily's eyes widened. She knew that sound.
"[Voice of the Seraphim]," she muttered. A skill that stunned all enemies in a fifty-meter radius. Only one person in their party could use it.
Footsteps echoed behind the monster.
"Good job holding the line until now," said a calm, familiar voice. But Emily could feel the suppressed anger in the voice.
Alice stepped into the chamber.
Free from the skill effect, the Guardian Machina immediately jumped back.
Its instincts screamed at it to flee. The living flesh at its core recoiled, its awareness warning of a threat.
That woman was dangerous.
Alice didn't look at the monster. Her gaze was fixed on Emily, more precisely, on the blood staining her clothes, the cuts along her limbs, and the damage across her torso.
