Samuel, still intoxicated by the adrenaline of the fight, straightened up, adjusting the black hood of his cloak over his head, concealing his face in the shadows. He told himself that he had nothing left to do here. The atmosphere of the tavern was heavy, and the customers' gazes were filled with terror and distrust. Slowly, without hurrying, he made his way to the exit, his footsteps echoing heavily on the wooden floor.

However, before he reached the door, a whistle pierced the air behind him. A silver blade was speeding towards him at full speed. Samuel's sharp reflexes took over. Without even thinking, he shouted:

"Celestial Shield!"

A translucent shield appeared instantly, surrounding Samuel with a soft yet solid light. The silver blade struck violently against the magical barrier, producing a metallic sound. The shock made the air around them vibrate, but the shield held firm. The blade, powerless against magic, fell heavily to the ground with a clatter.

Samuel slowly turned around, his cold gaze sweeping the room in search of the attacker. His attention was fixed on the armored man, the one from whom he had torn off the arm. The soldier had gotten back up, despite his obvious disability. He had fashioned a makeshift tourniquet on his bloodied stump, and a glimmer of madness shone in his eyes. Without showing any signs of pain, he stood ready to fight again.

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In a swift and furious motion, the man jumped into the air, a new silver blade appearing in his strong hand. He fell heavily towards Samuel, determined to pierce the shield and avenge his honor. The blades he was handling seemed to stem from a specific skill, which made Samuel ponder.

Silver blades... This could be the skill "Silver Blades." "I saw this ability in my own list... he thought quickly, his mind analyzing the situation in a fraction of a second."

And suddenly, as the soldier was about to strike Samuel, he was abruptly halted mid-air. Thick, sticky filaments completely enveloped him, paralyzing him in mid-air. Trapped, he fell heavily to the ground, unable to free himself from the webs that constricted him like a vise.

Samuel, immediately recognizing these canvases, slowly turned his head towards the entrance of the tavern. There, standing with her hand still slightly smoking, was Helydia. She had thrown the web with disconcerting precision, using the palm of her hand to immobilize the attacker.

A playful smile stretched across her lips as she watched Samuel, her eyes sparkling with a mocking glint. In their telepathic connection, her soft voice echoed in Samuel's mind:

"Seriously, I leave you alone for two minutes and you create such a mess?"

Helydia slowly advances into the tavern, her white dress billowing behind her as the patrons, terrified by the display of power, retreat even further, not wanting to draw her attention at all.