In another part of the battlefield, Sylph and Mirra faced each other, the air between them heavy with crackling tension. The fiery intensity in their gazes spoke volumes as they prepared for their inevitable clash.
"You seem confident for someone who's about to lose," Sylph taunted, her lips curling into a smirk. Her voice was light, playful, as if the battle were nothing more than a game.
Mirra sneered, her hands already glowing with dark energy. "Confidence? No, dear, it's certainty." Her voice dripped with malice, sharp and cutting like the claws she was about to summon.
Without waiting for another word, Sylph leaped into action, her movements fluid and graceful. The wind answered her call, swirling around her like a loyal servant.
