"No, sister… it seems you were the one who forgot the rules of the clan."
My light voice drifted outward, soft… yet it carried unnaturally far, brushing against every ear present as though it had weight of its own.
The crowd froze.
They stared, utterly dumbstruck, struggling to process what had just happened.
Even they could barely keep up with our speed.
To them, all they saw was Sylvia vanishing… and then reappearing a moment later, her posture tense, as though she had just encountered something far more terrifying than an equal.
Their gazes flickered rapidly between the two of us, trying to determine who held the upper hand.
From what they could see… neither of us had been harmed.
And that only made it worse.
Glancing between us, a sharp glint passed through Rosaline's eyes.
'That cursed technique…' she muttered internally, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly as it settled on Aristarkh.
She replayed the exchange in her mind.
The clash. The timing. The distortion.
