>>6295687
>Turn 5:

“Woah! He’s huge!” May’s eyes widen in shock. “How’d he do that? Can I learn that?!”

“Ugh, that’s disgusting.” Chelsey crinkles her nose as she stares at the image of Sid and his muscles. “I’d heard about this guy. Supposedly, he lost the woman he loves to a warrior that was unable to use magic. He blamed his small stature and developed this…strange sorcery.”

“That’s impressive.” Adeline says with genuine amazement. “He’s really giving it his all…”

“No it isn’t!” Chelsey chastises her. “You of all people should be more angry about this! Look at your own muscles, you worked hard for those!”

>Turn 6:

“What is he doing?!” Bronte asks, horrified upon watching Elric backstab Oswald.

“That’s not Elric!” Adeline exclaims, leaning forward. “That can only be the work of Mystletainn.”

“H-he really is possessed, then?” Bronte’s stammers. “It sounds…almost too absurd to be real. But the Elric I know would never do something so villainous...”

“He’s slicing through grown men like nothing.” Chelsey says. “How is Tristain supposed to deal with that without killing him?”

“He’ll find a way.” May says slyly. “I think right now, he hates Mystletainn more than anyone else. Knowing our guy, he won’t rest until he’s pulled them apart. I almost feel bad for that creepy spirit. It's got no idea what’s coming.”

>Turn 7:

“What? Why are they still fighting Sid?!” Bronte slams her hands on the table in frustration. “Idiot! He’s trying to stall you! Hurry up and get in the Tower before it’s too late!”

Bronte furiously yells at the orb, attempting to manifest her will through it. Tristan, on the other hand, ignores her completely in favor of continuing the fight against Sid. She grows nervous, seething as the timer whittles away, only to be amazed when Tristain finishes the fight with a stunning display of magic empowered by the Crest of Macuil.

“That was…surprising.” Bronte says after some time. “And here I thought you’d been neglecting your magic. I owe you an apology, it seems…”

“That was awesome!” May cheers, jumping off the couch. “This is a lot more fun to watch when you’re not physically there and in danger! When does the next stage start? Can we watch more?”

“Unfortunately, the monitoring magic won’t work inside the tower.” Bronte sighs, leaning back in her chair.

“Ugh…” May whines. “What do we do in the meantime then?”

Silence falls upon the group. Watching the first stage had, in a way, helped to alleviate the tension they felt about Tristain heading off into the unknown. But now that their bird’s eye view would soon be fading, said tension was once again creeping its ugly head.

“Let’s go to the Seven and Eleven Emporium.” Bronte suggests. “I could use a Moonfrost…”