Ren launched himself forward again, his boots crunching over frost as he swung low towards Myra's side.
She stepped into his arc instead of away from it, her gauntleted hand locking onto his wrist. Her sword came up in a clean, effortless line, splitting his collarbone and biting deep into his shoulder.
Pain flared white hot in his shoulder, but Ren flowed with it, burying it deep within himself. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted. Not here, not now.
His free hand lashed out in a stabbing thrust toward her midsection, but she tilted her torso, letting the blade scrape harmlessly off her armor.
Then she wrenched him forward by the wrist and slammed her knee into his chest. His ribs shattered with a crunch like brittle sticks.
He hit the ground hard, rolling once, the ice searing into his back. But already the knitting began, with his bone reforming and his tissues sealing.
He pushed himself up, sword clutched tight.
Again.
