The moment Alvera's voice rang through the air, it was like a force of nature had been unleashed.
The very ground trembled beneath their feet. A brutal snowstorm burst forth with a roar, swirling around the battlefield in a terrifying display of power. Icy winds howled through the mountains, whipping up thick curtains of snow and frost that clawed at the cloaks of the Nightstar soldiers.
The very air turned heavy, sharp, and biting, and even the battle-hardened men felt its pressure. It was not just an act of aggression—it was a warning, a message carved in cold and fury: You are not welcome here.
In the eye of this storm stood Mira, her long red hair flowing wildly, her cloak billowing like a banner of flame amid white fury. Yet, she didn't flinch.
Her expression remained composed, her eyes steady. She knew exactly how strong Alvera was, yet she stood her ground.
