"She's not fighting back," Blaze muttered under his breath, his voice filled with disbelief. "Why isn't she fighting back?"
The man didn't relent. He conjured another wave of energy, hurling it toward her with deadly accuracy. Phoenix raised her arms to shield herself, the force of the blast sending her skidding backwards. Dust and debris clouded the air, but when it cleared, she was still standing, her crimson eyes blazing with unspoken anguish.
The fight dragged on, each attack testing Phoenix's limits. Her body bore the marks of their battle—cuts, bruises, and burns from near-misses and glancing blows. Yet she endured, her feet rooted firmly in place, her gaze never wavering.
The man circled her, his frustration evident in the way his movements became sharper, more aggressive. He lunged at her again, his sword slashing toward her chest. Phoenix ducked under the strike, twisting away as the blade passed harmlessly over her head.
