The God of War and Ping Jun continued their fierce exchange, their movements a blur of ancient Chinese martial arts mastery. Each strike carried the weight of centuries, their hatred fueling their relentless onslaught.
"You always did enjoy playing the long game, Ping Jun," the God of War taunted, his voice dripping with contempt as he deflected a series of rapid-fire jabs. "Manipulating events from the shadows, using others as your pawns."
Ping Jun's lips curled into a sardonic grin. "And you, always the noble hero, blinded by your own sense of righteousness," he spat, his foot lashing out in a powerful kick that the God of War narrowly evaded.
The two combatants danced around each other, their bodies moving with a fluidity that defied the limits of human physiology. Each strike was a calculated maneuver, a testament to the depth of their martial arts mastery.
