Pyris used the moment to regain his footing, his confidence unwavering despite the overwhelming odds.
The guardian's aura sharpened again, the pressure growing. It raised its sword, and Pyris braced himself. He could feel it in his bones—the next exchange would push him to the edge. But he was ready.
"Round two," Pyris said, his voice carrying both determination and a hint of madness.
The air grew colder, as if even the elements themselves were stifled under the guardian's overwhelming presence. Its ominous dark aura flared, twisting reality around it, swallowing what little light dared shine in its space. The battlefield seemed to shrink under the weight of the guardian's oppressive force.
Shadows writhed on the walls, alive with malice.
