Lavinia believed she had grown stronger.
Stronger than when she had been in the Etherion Domain.
The complete helplessness she had felt during those days never stopped haunting her in her dreams.
In those dreams, every time she felt like everything was about to come crashing down, the figure of a young man would always appear before her, shielding her from the danger that would have left her broken otherwise.
Lavinia believed that, with her sword whip in hand, she could always stand tall and show the world of the might of the Clawford Tribe.
Sure, she could instantly kill Rank 1 Monsters. Rank 2 Monsters didn't pose a threat to her either, unless they were coming at her in a group.
But she understood that sometimes, there were instances when she would be unable to dodge an attack and had to take the brunt of it using her body.
However, today was not that day.
For someone else was enduring the blows that were meant for her.
