Isabelle turned back toward the crater and raised her staff.
"You better make it count."
Moon paused for a fraction of a second. The woman's voice…something about it tugged at the edge of his memory, it was somehow familiar, he had heard it before, but he wasn't able to place where.
But there was no time to dwell on that matter. The spirit was glaring at him with cold, burning hatred. Its grip on the dagger had perceptively tightened, and its body was coiling to strike.
"He's coming!" Isabelle shouted.
She charged forward to meet the spirit head-on. Their weapons connected with a sharp cling that echoed across the vicinity. The spirit's dagger caught the shaft of her staff, and for a brief moment they were locked together.
Then, the spirit twisted its wrist and shoved her back with a strong kick.
