The two stared at each other, the space between them filled with cracking tension. There was no smile on Alyndra's face; it was carved like a mask of flesh.
This time, there would be no game. Only sword and fight. Only fight.
The two of them shot at each other, streaks of red and gold clashing in the middle with the sound of a muted thunder strike. The ground cracked around them, and their essence pressure sent the wind bellowing, throwing up dust.
They pushed their swords against each other, and then Alyndra's sword seemed to gain more weight as it glowed a blinding gold. She pushed Atrox away and shot at him, sending arcs of slashes at him.
Atrox returned them with his own. They fought like this for a while, exchanging bolts and strikes. Occasionally, their swords would clash again, turning the area around them into a battlefield filled with fissures and craters.
