While Serena was just barely holding on to her defence, Soreia wasn't so lucky.
The corrosive mist scoured her side, blackening skin and tearing cloth. The orb she held—a replica conjured from her memories of the last trial that kept all corrosive elements at bay—was virtually useless in helping her.
She screamed, clutching the fresh gash in her side, only barely shielding herself in time to avoid being cleaved in half. Her conjured sword clattered to the floor, sizzling as droplets of acid burned into the hilt.
Serena struck next. Even mid-agony, and while withstanding repeated blows from the statue, she wanted to be the final nail in Soreia's coffin.
Another arrow made from spiritual power formed instantly in her left hand and she launched it like a javelin toward Soreia's exposed torso. In doing so however, she sacrificed some of the control she had over the internal energy wreaking havoc in her body, and immediately buckled under the pain.
Soreia rolled—too slow.
