Damned Healer

Eulalia snorted: "In my clan, maybe I’m the weakest tank when it comes to defense. But to beat a ridiculous and wild brat like you, two fingers are more than enough."

Darian looked at her and said calmly, "What nonsense. Did you come here to fight or just talk?"

Was she seriously trying to compete on who could say the most arrogant things? It was obvious she just wanted to recover her clan’s reputation.

"Be a good boy and grab your weapon. Let me destroy it along with your dreams!"

"No need," Darian crossed his arms in front of his chest and replied with disdain, "You look even weaker than that other idiot. Since he wasn’t worthy enough for me to use my weapon, for you... there’s even less reason."

She pulled the scarlet whip from her waist and cracked it hard, making sparks fly, and a deafening PAH echoed through the air.

Darian’s posture almost made her tremble with rage. Eulalia whipped the air again and said with contempt:

"Even if I’m not the toughest tank, in my entire life, no one at my level has ever managed to beat me. When you die miserably later, don’t say I didn’t warn you!"

With a roar, she was already leaping through the air. Her body was enveloped by a strange purple flame that, in an instant, covered her completely; it looked like she had put on a suit — or a dress — of fire.

Despite all the arrogance in her words and actions, Eulalia attacked with almost full strength right from the start. It was clear she didn’t dare underestimate Darian.

Seeing her going all out, her clan members got excited. Indeed, she didn’t have as much durability as most tanks, but her blessing and combat skills made up for that.