Princess Cinderella's eyes reflected a moment from the past. For a second, she saw someone else in Mitsuki—but her dull gaze and emotionless face showed nothing beyond the inevitable judgment reserved for those who entered the kingdom.
Rain slid down her ash-covered face, evaporating into thin strands of vapor the moment it touched the heat of her body, as if even the weather refused to linger on her for long.
Poised elegantly atop the tip of the tower, she swung her first sword, launching a massive blade of fire. The rain evaporated upon contact with the flying slash as it surged toward the duo at overwhelming speed, leaving behind a distorted trail in the air—as if reality itself melted in its wake.
Marco jumped and rolled across the slanted roof to evade it, but due to the rain, he slipped, barely managing to grab onto a tile before falling into the abyss. His fingers clung desperately to the slick edge, his nails scraping against the wet stone as the wind lashed his face.
