The duel continued.
There was no shift in the momentum. There was no sudden breakthrough.
Adam never really stood a chance.
Zagho struck him down again and again, the sound of his fists hammering into flesh echoing constantly in the hall. Each blow was precise, controlled, and overwhelming.
Adam's body hit the ground repeatedly, cracking stone, splattering blood, leaving dents in the hall's ancient floor.
And yet…
Before ten seconds could pass, Adam would move.
He would claw his way back from unconsciousness. A twitch of his finger, a sharp intake of breath, or a hand clawing at the floor. He dragged himself back to his knees, forced himself upright, and stepped forward. Only to be struck down again.
The pattern repeated.
Again.
And again.
And again…
Thirty minutes passed like that, yet the victor had still not been declared.
