Unknown
F**k.
I rage and rage, ignoring the throbbing pain in my throat. The little wh**e. How did I underestimate her? How? My feet pummel to the ground while I frenetically search the nearby brushes. The little wench has to be here somewhere.
I curse myself—stupid spells. F**king stupid grimoar. You’d need a sh** ton of potions and elixirs for all the spells I could use to enhance my abilities. And even the few that were less work had at least one ingredient needed that I don’t have at hand. I’m unlucky enough not to be able to ‘blink’ or ‘zap’. No travel in milliseconds for me. Not with my blood. On top of that, only one retrieval spell would work fast enough, and guess what? Got to be a ‘full’ warlock for that. I curse my mother under my breath. There is nothing that I hate more th
