A cataclysmic eruption reverberated through the very core of the earth as the two combatants collided at a singular, explosive point.
Mana surged in waves, volatile and ferocious, swirling in the air as dust and debris were hurled skyward, consuming the battlefield.
The mountain itself seemed to shudder under the immense pressure of their clash, the ground cracking, as if the world itself was trying to flee from the fury of their power.
Then, in a split second, they vanished, erased from the mountain's summit, a mere whisper in the storm.
Selunara, her form a blur of grace and deadly precision, launched herself forward.
Her twin daggers, gleaming, lethal, shot toward Lucian's chest and stomach simultaneously, their tips flashing with intent so sharp it could cleave through fate itself.
Yet, Lucian was no novice.
His instincts, honed through various battles, surged as he leaped into the air.
