Kyrie stumbled into the clearing, his weary legs giving way beneath him. Sweat dripped down his brow as he gasped for breath, clutching his halberd tightly. He noticed the dead bodies with piles of snow on top, he gritted his teeth but sprinted towards the place Steve had gone.
As he stepped forward, a massive tree root suddenly burst from the ground, lunging towards him with malevolent intent. Reacting on instinct, Kyrie swiftly raised his halberd, its gleaming blade glinting in the dim moonlight. With a swift and precise strike, he sliced through the attacking root, severing it from its source. The force of his action left him breathless, and he sank to his knees.
Hatta, ever the loyal companion, approached Kyrie, concern etched on his weathered face. He extended a helping hand, the calloused fingers offering support. Kyrie gratefully accepted the assistance, allowing Hatta to lift him to his feet.
As they pressed forward, Kyrie's gaze shifted to the figures following behind. A few yards behind, he noticed Aloqua, the enchanting Jana of stunning blue eyes, followed closely by Naga, her mysterious but loyal companion. Together, they continued towards the lake.
Finally, Kyrie and Hatta arrived at the edge of the lake, where Aran stood, his eyes fixed on a teenage girl who lay unconscious on the snowy ground next to him. “Steve was protecting this girl. Don’t know who she is, though,” Aran said. The unconscious girl emitted soft, rhythmic snores, oblivious to the danger that surrounded her.
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"Careful with the dragon," Aran said, his voice filled with urgency. "It lies wounded, yet still draws breath. There’s also these cursed roots, sprouting and attacking out of nowhere."
As Aran's words trailed off, a sinister root emerged from the ground, its twisted form lashing out toward Aloqua and Naga. Time seemed to slow as Kyrie's instincts kicked in. With a skilled swing of his halberd, he severed the root before it could reach its intended targets. The weapon danced through the air, returning to his grasp like a boomerang.
Concern etched across his face, Kyrie turned to Aran. "Where is Alice?" he asked, frowning.
Kyrie's eyes followed Aran's gaze, directing his attention to the middle of the lake. There, amidst a swirling mist of dark gray, Alice's unconscious form floated, an eerie sight that sent shivers down Kyrie's spine.
"Alice struck Steve, sending him hurtling through the air," Aran explained, his voice heavy with guilt. "His landing spot is where she now floats."
Kyrie's breath caught in his throat, disbelief mingling with anxiety. He had witnessed Alice's power before, but the consequences of her actions were dire. He knew they had to act swiftly.
"The ice," Aran cautioned, his gaze fixed on the fragile surface of the lake. "It is treacherously thin. One misstep, and we risk sinking into its icy depths."
Kyrie's heart pounded in his chest as he surveyed the perilous expanse before him. The weight of their predicament bore down upon his shoulders, a burden he could not ignore. With determination burning in his eyes, he turned to his companions.
"We must find a way to rescue Alice," Kyrie declared, his voice filled with unwavering resolve. "We cannot let Steve’s fate be sealed by the icy grasp of this lake."