Suddenly, a massive explosion of mana erupted from Aiku.
BOOM!
The sheer force blasted outward in a radiant shockwave, cracking the pavement and tearing through the wreckage like a divine tempest. Anya was flung backward, skidding across the rubble-strewn street with a grunt, as she collided with a broken pillar.
Coughing through the dust, she forced herself to sit up—only for the air around her to grow eerily still.
A voice—ethereal, distant, yet everywhere at once—echoed across the battlefield.
"What are you willing to wager?"
Anya's head snapped around. The voice wasn't Aiku's. It wasn't anyone's she recognized. It was disembodied, layered with power and a whisper of something ancient—like an oracle speaking from the void.
She looked around frantically, her crimson eyes scanning the ruins.
"Wha—Who said that?!" she shouted, rising shakily to her feet.
