With a smile, Wuthenya's soul-bound weapon materialized in her hands, a pair of sleek, black twin daggers. Then, in an instant, she appeared directly in front of Orvak. No movement technique, no Astra, just pure, unadulterated physical strength.
Her dagger carved through the air with maddening grace, arcing toward Orvak's neck. But the Sinvaira simply took a single step back, an amused smile lingering on his face. The dagger sliced through the space where his throat had just been.
"Put some strength into your attacks. I haven't made a move in centuries, don't bore me," Orvak said calmly, sidestepping another incoming strike with insulting ease.
Wuthenya immediately vanished from her position, reappearing several meters back. She clenched her jaw. What Orvak said was true. Her life was on the line, she was battling someone leagues above her. There was no room for reservation. She couldn't afford to waste time or energy.
