From the ocean side

From the ocean side First, the current splits. under the surface of the water Several shapes come to mind at the same time. See wild. A wet mask, The armor of seaweed and ice, The magic of mixing water and ice It spreads like breathing. in the meantime The shadow follows late. those standing against the light. You can't see my face Only the mask sparkles. Shadow Wilder. And after that, storming out of the woods Wooden Wilds. Trees, winds, and bows. It's all one time. "It's mixed." Naird speaks briefly. There is no need for an answer. The first arrow flies in. It's not a straight line Curve, refraction, wind-driven trajectory. The dryer is already moving. The crossbow is ringing. a series of shots. Before the tree arrow came Wilder's mask breaks first. Inside have no expression‎ on one's face. Looks like a human, but not a human. Of course, there's no mention of people Sea Wilde pulls up the water. Ice cubes rise like waves. Naird steps forward. a sword of the sword. Water collides with water. When Naird's sword passed The waves break off The ice splits. "It's slow." at the same time as I said that a swarm of swords. like a bird's-eye a continuous cut. The two of you, Sea Wild It sinks into the water. The shadow strikes. Shadow Wilder. Out of the darkness Stab a sword. But already The location is read. The variety Half a turn back. a sonic arrow. The shadow is torn. It's not dark The form of a person falls apart. "As expected, it's annoying." The dryer speaks low. Wooden Wilde At the same time, he raises his bow. Trees and wind. a group shot in the forest. The dryer doesn't stop. Lower the crossbow Put an arrow on the ground. The roots are rising. The arrows lose track. in the meantime a speaker mixed with ice and stone. The mask is broken The wooden armor splits. One Sea Wild Throw an ice spear. Naird takes it with a sword. It bounces. "What about water?" “…This is how you write it." The sword overlaps with electricity and sound waves. a single cross-cutting. Sea Wild is I can't maintain ice or water It collapses as it is. a group of three. three attributes. But there is one thing in common. collective character. hatred. Mask. Dried says. "They always come out like this." "In the mix, without responsibility." Naird nods. "So We need to cut the flow." The crossbow rings again. The sword flashes again. On the sea, The end of the forest, in the shadows Wilder is It falls down one by one. But until the last one falls This battlefield is It's not over. And the dryer feels. This is not an accidental encounter. Wilder is on purpose here They are fighting in a mixture.