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When Trebol rasped out that name, something on the verge of breaking strained beneath his voice.
"He's alive."
The answer came without hesitation.
Rossi did not even turn his head, his gaze still fixed on the enemy ahead. "As long as this coat is still on my shoulders, it proves he's all right."
The fabric was a bond formed by an ability. As long as it had not dissipated, the life at its other end had not gone out.
Besides, the ability their opponent had displayed seemed more like flinging people down a fork in time than erasing them completely-as long as they won this battle, there would be a way to find them again.
But they had to win first.
Imu raised a hand to wipe the blood from her lips, her gaze finally settling fully on Rossi's face.
The chaotic currents gradually subsided, but a heavier pressure began gathering in the air.
"Rossi."
As she spoke his name, the temperature around them seemed to drop several degrees. "You gathered these people here. You are also the one who reduced me to this."
The instant her words fell, the two companions closest to Rossi shouted almost simultaneously:
"Get back!"
The warnings from the white-bearded man and the red-robed man rang out almost as one.
In truth, Rossi needed no reminder. He had already caught the figure's movement-her speed had simply torn through the air.
Before the afterimage in his vision had faded, sky-blue hair streamed like a waterfall, and the black-robed figure stood almost face-to-face with him, close enough to count the shadows cast by each other's eyelashes.
His blade moved faster than thought.
The edge of Sandai Kitetsu thrust out instinctively, but the instant it pierced the right side of her abdomen, Rossi's pupils contracted sharply.
Warm