"I-I've been meaning to talk to you, really," Lancet muttered, scratching the back of his neck as a wave of nervous sweat broke out under his collar. "But my Grace Channels were fractured until yesterday."
Astensia's eyes remained narrowed. "I see."
Then, she turned her focus back to Renan. Explosively, she thrusted the flat of her massive golden greatsword forward. The force slammed directly into Renan's chest piece, sending the Specialist leader flying several yards backward across the dirt.
She spun her blade then lowered it slightly to the side, the wind blowing her golden hair. "I hold no grudge against you, Renan Falconhart," she spoke like a knight. "But my master and I have urgent matters to discuss, so I would prefer to finish this quickly."
Renan skidded to a halt. He straightened up, his silver hair swaying as his expression darkened. "I respect you, Lady Astensia. But do not think that you can underestimate me."
Astensia tilted her head a little.
