The battle between Erend and Svetlana started again, both combatants locked in a deadly dance of steel and claw in the middle of the air that was already corrupted by Magic of their fight.
Svetlana's mastery of her sword was undeniable. Her movements were so fast that it become a blur. Each swing came faster than the last and every stab was aimed at Erend with the intentions to kill him.
Erend felt the sting of her blade as it glanced off his arms and sides. Sparks flew as the sharp edges met his scales. However, it only leaving minor scratches. His Dragonborn armor was strong, far stronger than Svetlana had expected, and it withstood her assaults with ease.
Still, the pressure was relentless. She was fast and it took all his focus to keep up with her barrage of strikes.
Svetlana's eyes flared with frustration as she noticed her attacks only left shallow marks. Her teeth clenched, and she snarled.
"Damn you, Dragonborn! Why won't you bleed like the others?!" said Svetlana with a curse.
Erend smirked, his eyes glinting with a calm confidence. "Guess your attacks aren't strong enough," he taunted back with ccalm voice even despite the intensity of their clash.
Svetlana's expression twisted with rage. She let out a growl of anger, her frustration boiling over. Without warning, she leapt back, creating distance between them.
Erend frowned because he sensed that things will get worse.
Her eyes burned with determination as she gripped her sword tightly. She channelled her Magic into it. The blade began to shift, glowing with a dark crimson light.
Erend's eyes narrowed as he watched the transformation. The blade that once solid and sharp started to unravel, its segments separating yet remaining connected by an ethereal energy. In seconds, the sword morphed into a whip-like weapon, its segments floating and ready to lash out with a deadly reach.
Erend grimaced, recognizing the danger. "Great, that's just what I fucking needed right now," he muttered, his wings beating steadily to keep him afloat as he prepared for her next move.
Svetlana grinned viciously as if she can sense his discomfort.
"Let's see how you handle this then, Dragonborn," she hissed, and with a swift motion she snapped the segmented whip forward. The blade shot out like a serpent, its tip aimed straight for Erend's neck.
Unlike Svetlana's strategic and varied attacks, Miraslava relied on her raw strength and speed, opting for direct brutal strikes. Her sword had transformed into a massive crimson greatsword with black edges, radiating a sinister aura as she wielded it with terrifying power.
Eccar met her head-on, his own strength and speed matching hers. The two clashed in close combat, the force of their blows sending out shockwaves that cracked the air.
Eccar's blade met Miraslava's greatsword, the impact creating sparks and ripples of Magic energy. He pushed back with all his might, refusing to yield as Miraslava pressed forward.
The sheer force of their confrontation was immense; their movements were swift and only appeared as blurring motion to the naked eyes as they exchanged powerful strikes.
Miraslava's greatsword carved through the air with relentless speed, each swing accompanied by a dark, crimson trail. Eccar countered with rapid parries, his claws moving as he matched her strength blow for blow.
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Despite the intensity, neither warrior showed signs of slowing down. The air around them seemed like cracked as if they actually carve the space and time with the sheer power of their clashes.
However, Eccar's eyes lit up with a fierce glint as he traded blows with Miraslava. There was a thrill coursing through him. It reminded him of the time he unleashed his true strength in the Dungeon, where he didn't have to hold back. Here, facing an opponent as powerful as Miraslava, he felt that same rush, an opportunity to test the limits of his power once again.
"RRAAAARGH!"
With a roar, Eccar swung his fist forward, pouring his strength into a powerful punch aimed directly at Miraslava.
She raised her massive greatsword just in time to block but the impact creating a shockwave that echoed across the battlefield. Despite her attempt to hold her ground, the sheer force behind Eccar's punch was turned out to be overwhelming.
The impact sent Miraslava flying backward, her feet skidding across the ground as she struggled to steady herself. She dug her heels in and eventually managed to stop herself several meters away.
Her eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her face as she registered the power Eccar had unleashed. She hadn't expected him to possess such raw strength and enough to push her back even while she braced with her sword.
Miraslava's grip on her greatsword tightened, her gaze narrowing as she reassessed her opponent. For the first time, she realized Eccar wasn't simple. He was someone who thrived in the chaos of battle and someone who seemed to draw strength from the intensity of the fight itself.
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