Round 239

Silra turns her teal glare away from Jeane just long enough to spit a response: "That thing on the floor is NOT our friend anymore, you soft-hearted idiot! Those wings, that glow—it's consuming her. Forty minutes are UP. We have maybe ninety seconds before your little barrier fails and she tears us apart." She stalks over to the wall where Hera works, voice dropping but no less dangerous: "You said you could reinforce this shit? Because if this building collapses around us while we're dealing with that monster, we're all dead anyway. Do something useful."

Halie's face goes pale at Silra's words, but she doesn't back down. She steps between Jeane and the rogue, hands raised placatingly: "I'm not asking you to trust her completely—I'm asking you to give me ONE MORE MINUTE to find a solution! I can hold this barrier for sixty seconds if I channel everything I have." Her voice trembles slightly but remains firm. "Please, Silra—you're the best fighter we have. If I fail, you'll be our last line of defense. But I won't fail."

Silra's hand moves to her sword hilt instinctively, then stops as she processes Halie's words. The cleric's determination shows through despite her obvious exhaustion—and something in Silra's expression shifts almost imperceptibly. She doesn't lower her guard completely, but she steps back half a pace and nods once: "One minute. But if that thing so much as twitches wrong during those sixty seconds, I'm ending it."

Halie sags with relief at the small victory, then immediately refocuses on maintaining the barrier. The magical energy crackles around her fingers, visible tendrils of blue-white light stretching and straining against the invisible force trying to tear through. She closes her eyes, centering herself, as the seconds begin to tick away.