"Hah... hah...!" Windstrike remained on his feet, staring at "Mediterranean," but his chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath.
"You're hurt," Lilia said with concern.
"Don't worry about me. Look at what your partner wants you to do." Windstrike pointed at Rhode.
Lilia looked at Rhode and saw him slowly raising his right arm, pointing at the Syndicate shadow mage down the hill.
His arm trembled as he lifted it. Clearly, Rhode had only managed even that much by mustering every ounce of strength he had.
"Go on. Whatever's keeping him from moving probably has something to do with that mage," Windstrike continued. "Leave this guy to me. I'll hold him off."
"Hang in there!" Lilia wasted no time, immediately vaulting down with her sword in hand.
She clearly understood Rhode's intent. In his current state, Windstrike probably couldn't hold out for long, so she had to hurry!
A roll, a leap, and Charge!
Lilia soon reached the shadow mage.
Pummel!
She had to interrupt his spellcasting as quickly as possible.
Sure enough, the instant her Pummel landed, Rhode could connect to the Spell Models in his mind again!
Rhode immediately summoned a Mage Hand to catch... to catch Windstrike.
Yes, "Mediterranean" had sent him flying yet again.
That blow must have hurt even worse. He was probably on the verge of passing out.
No, it looked like he had already passed out. After Rhode set him down, he lay there without moving.
Ahem. Who told you to go raising a death flag back there? You're lucky you're still alive!
Just then, "Mediterranean" closed in, his hammer bearing straight down on Rhode.
"Hahaha! So what if you've snapped out of it? Let's see you use Fireball at this range..." Before "Mediterranean" could finish, Rhode thrust out a hand,