Fly.
The words of her mistress echoed in the mind of the black-haired maid.
It was not an order, but a blessing.
She glanced at the two long swords in her hands, casually strapped them to her belt, and then walked towards the edge of the terrace, moving faster and faster, eventually breaking into a run.
Finally, she leapt off the edge of the terrace—a gust of wind wrapped in snow appeared in time, enveloping the figure that had leapt off and lifting her into the sky.
Among the swirling snowflakes, a large shadow faintly rushed towards the southern sky, yet the shadow flashed by so quickly that everyone who noticed this anomaly thought they were imagining things.
If it takes to the wind, even deformed and degenerated wings can soar.
Victoria quietly watched the whirlwind that appeared suddenly dissipate in the sky, watched the vast body that passed through the distant lead-gray clouds, reflected in her eyes a scene of swirling snowflakes, she lightly sighed:
