Black clothes, masked face, twin daggers spinning toward the fox knight's throat with lethal precision. He barely got his armored forearm up in time—metal shrieked against steel in a sound that made Elara's teeth ache. Then he drove his elbow into the assassin's ribs. The crack of bone was sickeningly audible.
The assassin didn't even pause. Just pivoted with fluid grace that shouldn't have been possible and lunged straight for Elara.
She threw herself sideways, rolling across the floor. Not fast enough—fire traced across her upper arm as the blade caught her sleeve and the skin beneath. She kicked out on pure instinct, all her Taekwondo training snapping into place. Her foot connected solidly with the assassin's knee.
It felt like kicking a steel pillar. The assassin barely stumbled before recovering, and Elara's heart sank. *These aren't normal fighters. They're too fast. Way too fast.*
