The moment I turned around, a gust of wind hit me—not from the natural currents of the sky, but from the beating wings of something alive.
I narrowed my eyes.
There, hovering in a tight formation, were winged figures—humanoid in shape but in no way human. Harpies, and it was six of them.
Their upper bodies were distinctly feminine, with pale blue-gray skin stretched taut over lean muscle, each movement of their arms blending seamlessly into wings of feathered grace. Their faces were fierce, angular, with slanted crimson eyes that glowed faintly with killing intent. Long, tangled hair—ranging in color from ashen black to blood-red—whipped wildly in the wind. Their legs were like talons, elongated and scaled, ending in clawed feet sharp enough to tear through steel.
Each one radiated mana—wild and unforgiving. Even at full health, it would be troublesome to deal with them they were probably rank A or A+
