The two continued their battle for over a dozen rounds, the clashing of swords and the sound of metal never ceasing.
Fanny Ela's offensive was like a storm, each strike imbued with the determined will to cut through everything. Her fiery red hair flew wildly with her movements, like a blazing flame of battle.
However, Lynch's defense was like the most tenacious rock, unmoved by the raging waves.
His sword moves seemed simple and plain, yet he always managed to deflect or guide aside Fanny's fierce attacks with the smallest margins and most precise angles. His movements flowed like water, without a hint of stiffness.
"Clang!"
Once again, their swords clashed violently, a spray of dazzling sparks erupted, and the two used the force to float back several meters, temporarily widening the distance.
Lynch stood holding his sword, his breath steady, a hint of admiration in his gray eyes.
