Kaizer stood in the front lawn of the manor, staring at the curled-up corpse of Bjorn with a deep look. He then glanced at the manor behind the fellow, which now had a huge groove in it from the force of his attack, and his heart's waves still did not subside up until now.
Just what level was he at now?
While Kaizer was pondering, he frowned as he raised a hand, forming a psychic barrier that was immediately shattered as it came into contact with a petite fist that was wearing a white glove.
Kaizer was sent backward a few steps, his feet digging holes in the ground as his frown deepened.
Kaizer's eyes locked onto the attacker.
She was small, almost fragile in appearance, with delicate features that would have been mistaken for a porcelain doll if not for the unsettling gleam in her crimson eyes.
Her blonde hair was curled into ringlets, cascading down her shoulders, and she wore a black-and-white frilly maid outfit, complete with ribbons and lace.
