The air ignited once more—two blurs collided, flame and shadow clashing in a storm that shook the battlefield to its core. Every strike was a sonic boom, every movement a flash of light and darkness merging in violent harmony.
Liam's daggers met the illusion's blades mid-swing, sparks cascading like molten rain. The impact sent ripples of force through the cracked earth, fissures glowing with the heat of their power. The illusion pressed down, muscles coiling as it snarled, but Liam's expression didn't waver—his eyes were cold, precise, and calculating.
Then, just before the illusion could twist its blade to counter, Liam dropped his stance an inch lower—inverted the flow.
The illusion mimicked.
