Sylvia von Celestial stood on the high, frozen balcony of a ruined palace, her arms folded across her chest as the freezing wind whipped her dark coat. Her Master Low presence was hidden, a quiet shield keeping the freezing air away from her skin.
From her high spot, her sharp eyes were not watching the monsters in the fog. They were locked on the small yard below, where Team Arthur was moving with smooth skill.
She watched Amelia guide a ring of water magic to freeze an oncoming frost beast, while Arthur stepped forward with a flash of light mana, cutting the beast down before it could even make a sound. They moved like two parts of one whole, trusting each other without a single word.
Watching them from a distance, a bitter ache settled deep in Sylvia's chest.
It wasn't anger. It wasn't hatred. It was just a heavy, hollow recognition of what could have been.
