Vasilissa slipped past Nyar's endless flood of slashes like a leaf that refused to get slashed. She was fast, nimble, precise, but still hit harder than a freight train.
Arad might've been as aggressive as a rabid honey badger, but his mother was a whole other monster of madness. The way she moved, the relentless viciousness of her attacks, and the cold indifference in her purple eyes spoke volumes.
She was the kind of woman who would not give a damn about anyone or anything. It didn't matter to her what Nyar thought or planned; she couldn't even give a damn about Amaterasu or anyone else here. She wasn't fighting Nyar; he was the one fighting her. He had to play by her rules because she would never play by his.
Nyar tried to slash her head, and she didn't even bother looking at his attack. She charged forth as if he wasn't attacking at all, let the attack hit her, and the blade slipped through her neck like she was a ghost.
