Serra was fast—faster than Luka had anticipated. She darted in, her dagger slashing toward his throat. Luka barely managed to step back, the blade missing his jugular by a hair's breadth.
He swung his warhammer in retaliation, aiming for her ribs. She twisted, the hammer grazing her side but not slowing her down. Her speed was terrifying, her movements fluid and unpredictable.
"Too slow," she taunted, circling him like a viper.
Luka clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding as the blood thundered in his ears. With a sharp inhale, he feinted left, the motion swift and deceptive, before swinging the hammer in a devastating arc aimed to crush.
Serra moved like smoke, slipping past his assault with unnerving ease. Her dagger flashed upward in a deadly arc.
Pain exploded in Luka's arm as the blade bit deep into his bicep. He roared, staggering back, his grip on the hammer faltering as blood poured from the wound.
"First blood," Serra said with a grin, twirling her dagger.
Luka didn't respond. He lunged, swinging the hammer with all his strength. The weapon whooshed through the air, but Serra was already gone, ducking low and slicing at his leg.
The blade bit into his thigh, and Luka grunted in pain. His leg buckled, but he forced himself to stay upright.
"Come on," Serra hissed, her eyes gleaming. "I thought you were strong. Don't disappoint me."
Luka adjusted his stance, his breathing labored. He couldn't match her speed, and he knew it. But he didn't need to. All he needed was one good hit.
Serra came at him again, a blur of movement. Luka waited, his muscles screaming in protest as he held his ground. At the last second, he swung upward, his hammer catching her mid-dodge.
The blow clipped her shoulder, sending her spinning to the ground. She cried out, clutching her arm, but she didn't stay down for long.
"You'll have to do better than that," she spat, her voice venomous.
She threw a small blade from her belt. Luka raised his hammer just in time, the dagger embedding itself in the wooden handle. The distraction gave her an opening.
Serra surged forward, slamming into him with unexpected strength. Luka stumbled, his back hitting the wall. She was on him in an instant, her dagger slicing at his chest.
The blade bit deep, carving a jagged line across his ribs. Luka howled, his hammer falling to the ground. Serra grinned triumphantly, her dagger poised for the killing blow.
But Luka wasn't done yet.
With a burst of adrenaline, he grabbed Serra's wrist, stopping the dagger inches from his throat. His grip was iron, his strength fueled by desperation. Serra struggled, her free hand punching at his face, but Luka didn't let go.
"Not today," he growled.
He used his weight to shove her back, slamming her into the ground. Serra gasped, the air knocked from her lungs. Luka reached for his hammer, but Serra was already moving, kicking it out of reach.
She rolled away, grabbing another dagger from her belt. Luka rose to his feet, blood dripping from his wounds, his vision swimming.
"You're stubborn, I'll give you that," Serra said, circling him again.
"And you talk too much," Luka shot back.
Serra lunged, aiming for his neck. Luka ducked, grabbing a broken piece of rubble from the floor. He swung it like a club, catching Serra in the ribs.
She screamed, the sound raw and guttural, but she didn't stop. Her dagger flashed, slicing across Luka's face. Blood sprayed, and Luka roared in pain, one eye going blind as the blade cut deep.
Luka staggered, his breath ragged. He was losing too much blood.
Serra saw her chance and charged, her dagger aimed for his heart. Luka waited, his grip tightening on the rubble in his hand.
At the last second, he sidestepped, twisting his body. Serra's momentum carried her forward, and Luka brought the rubble down on her head with all his strength.
The impact was brutal. Serra crumpled to the ground, her dagger falling from her hand. Luka didn't give her a chance to recover. He grabbed his warhammer and raised it high, bringing it down on her chest.
Her ribs shattered under the force, blood spurting from her mouth as she gasped for air.
"Only the strongest survives," Luka muttered, his voice low and hollow.
He brought the hammer down one final time, crushing her skull.
[8/8 Eliminated.]
The room fell silent. The notification flashed in Luka's vision.
[Level Cleared.]
[Only the Strongest May Continue.]
The ground stopped shaking, the walls repairing themselves as if nothing had happened. A door appeared, its frame glowing with eerie light.
Luka dropped his hammer, his legs giving out beneath him. He sat amidst the carnage, blood dripping from his wounds, his breath ragged.
He had won.
He had survived.
Gripping his side, Luka pushed himself to his feet as he head towards the door.