The distance between them felt electric, tense. Courtney steadied her breath, her gaze more serious, more resolute. She knew she was up against a strong adversary—one whose power seemed to be much stronger than hers.
As she landed, her gaze met Nathan's, and a strange feeling churned in her chest. There was something about the way he reached out to her… something that made her feel uneasy, a faint, unshakable discomfort that lingered like a ghostly whisper in the back of her mind.
"Courtney! You can't beat him! Let's retreat!" Siara's voice rang out, laced with desperation and worry. Her trembling hands clenched tightly around the weapon she held, her wide eyes darting between the battlefield and Courtney's figure. The memory of Gwen's defeat was still fresh.
But Courtney didn't acknowledge her. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, resolute and unshaken, as if Siara's pleas were mere whispers carried off by the wind.
