The coliseum vibrated with the roar of the crowd. In the center stood Ail'wi and Naelo, their faces etched with a mix of excitement and respect.
A ding rang through the coliseum, signaling the start of the exhibition.
Ail'wi held her rapier aloft, its blade shimmering with a faint heat. She gave a slight bow and said in the ancient elven tongue:
"May your blade sing true."
Naelo gripped his spear, returned the bow, and repeated the phrase.
As soon as he said this, Ail'wi lunged forward, her rapier a blur of silver as she unleashed a flurry of attacks.
Naelo met each strike with his spear, water swirling around him and deflecting the blows with practiced ease. He parried a sharp thrust, the water around him coalescing into a shield that sent Ail'wi back a step.
