The water rose to ankle height.
Then knee height.
Then waist height.
The arena floor had vanished beneath the rising liquid. The water was cold.
Not freezing, but sufficiently frigid to raise goosebumps across exposed skin. The resistance of the medium was tangible, pressing against every limb, demanding effort for every movement.
Sylvia moved immediately. Her water affinity allowed her to navigate the rising liquid with perfect coordination.
Her speed was unaffected by the medium she controlled. She accelerated toward Rhys, her body cutting through the water with minimal resistance, her movements smooth and efficient despite the surrounding liquid.
Bastian and Miriame began to slow.
Their movements through the thickening water became labored. Each step required constant effort against the drag and pressure of the liquid.
Each motion met resistance that Sylvia did not experience. The water that had been harmless was now a battleground tailored entirely to Rhys's advantage.
