The witch, her eyes widening in surprise, barely managed to avoid the blade. She leaped back, her feet skimming the floor as she landed lightly on the balls of her feet, her eyes locked on Arpious with an intensity that sent a thrill down her spine.
For a brief moment, the two women stood there, both breathing hard, their eyes locked in a fierce, silent battle of wills. And then, without warning, they moved again, their bodies a blur of motion as they clashed in a deadly dance of steel and skill.
Arpious swung the scythe in a series of rapid, controlled strikes, each one aimed at a vital point on the witch's body. But the witch met each attack with a graceful ease that belied the intensity of the fight. She dodged and parried, her movements a perfect blend of speed and precision, her body moving with a fluidity that made it seem as though she were dancing rather than fighting.
