Lucian's eyes darted to the side, catching a glimpse of the shield hanging on the weapon rack. He needed to reach it, but Mira's arrow was poised to strike, ready to pierce through him if he made one false move. Shifting his foot slightly, he tested her reaction, but she remained steadfast, unfazed by his feint.

He contemplated his next move, trying to gauge her. He shifted his weight again, and for a fleeting moment, Mira's gaze flickered, betraying a hint of uncertainty. Seizing the opportunity, Lucian lunged forward, his legs propelling him towards the shield with a burst of speed.

Mira reacted instantly, releasing an arrow that whizzed past Lucian's ear, embedding itself in the ground beside him. Undeterred, she nocked another arrow and let it fly, its deadly trajectory aimed straight at his heart. With a desperate roll, Lucian evaded the second arrow, feeling the rush of air as it narrowly missed him. He sprang back to his feet, maintaining his momentum, determined to close the distance between himself and the shield.

As he approached the weapon rack, Mira readied another arrow, her fingers deftly drawing the bowstring taut. Time seemed to slow as she released the arrow, its sharp point cutting through the air. Lucian dove forward, his hand outstretched, grasping for the shield, and, with a swift motion, pulled it in front of him, just as the arrow struck its surface with a resounding thud. The arrow quivered, its tip embedded in the sturdy wood. Lucian had a moment of respite, a chance to catch his breath and assess his situation. He couldn't rely on the shield's protection forever. Mira would find a way to outmaneuver him, to exploit any weakness in his defense.

Lucian scanned the arena again and saw two weapon racks on opposite sides. The separation of the shields from the other weapons was a cruel twist, a calculated move by the organizers to create a disadvantage for the fighters. It forced them to make a split-second decision, to choose between the deadly grace of a sword or the versatile reach of a spear. The choice could mean the difference between victory and defeat, between life and death.

Mira's assault left him little time to contemplate his options. She charged towards him, her lithe form closing the distance with frightening speed. Lucian had to act fast, to seize the initiative before she could overwhelm him. His instincts screamed at him to go for the spear, the weapon he had trained with, the one that felt like an extension of his own arm.

With a burst of energy, he sprinted towards the left side of the arena, feet pounding against the dusty ground. Mira pursued him, her strides matching his own. The air grew thick with the swirling dust kicked up by their frenzied movement, a haze that obscured their vision.

As they neared the weapon rack, Mira launched herself into the air, her leg extended in a powerful kick aimed at Lucian's unprotected side. Reacting on pure instinct, he pivoted, bringing his shield up to meet her attack. The impact reverberated through his arm, a jarring sensation that nearly knocked him off balance. Mira, undeterred, pressed her advantage, unleashing a flurry of kicks in rapid succession.

Lucian parried the first kick with his shield, the wood absorbing the force of the blow. The second kick, a vicious roundhouse, connected with the shield with a resounding wham, sending shockwaves through it as he staggered backward while his feet struggled to find purchase on the uneven ground.

Without missing a beat, Mira swiftly moved towards him, determined to prevent him from grabbing the spear. She was focused on stopping him at all costs. But he immediately shifted his stance, planting his left foot firmly on the ground while stretching his right foot back. Lucian focused his strength, channeling it into his shield just like the old man had shown him before, using the shield as a weapon.

Mira sensed the change in Lucian's demeanor and nocked an arrow, the bowstring drawn taut, ready to set loose.

Lucian inhaled, chest expanding. Then, with a powerful exhale, lunged forward, shield leading the charge. He became a human projectile, his body an arrow propelled by the force. The shield's edge cut through the air aimed at Mira's center mass.

She reacted with lightning speed and sidestepped the charging Lucian, her body twisting in an arc. As she spun, she released the arrow, the fletched shaft seeking the unprotected flesh of her opponent's side. Lucian, sensing the impending danger, pivoted sharply, bringing his shield to bear. The arrow struck it with a loud thud, the impact radiating through his arm.

Mira pressed her advantage, letting loose a rapid succession of arrows. Lucian found himself on the defensive; he can’t move nor can he hit back. He’s pinned down.

But her onslaught wasn’t stopping and he couldn't maintain this pace indefinitely. The good thing here is Mira would run out of arrows eventually, but would he have the strength to seize the opportunity when it presented itself?

As if in answer to his unspoken question, the arrow barrage ceased. Lucian lowered his shield, seeking Mira's position. It was too late. She was already upon him, her hand shoving his shield aside. Before he could react, her foot connected with his stomach in a powerful roundhouse kick. The air rushed from Lucian's lungs as he crumpled to the ground, his shield clattering beside him. He lay there, gasping for breath, as Mira stood over him, her bow held loosely at her side.

She reached for another arrow but her fingers were grasping at empty air. Her quiver was empty. The realization dawned on her face, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Lucian seized the moment and forced himself to his feet. The spears were tantalizingly close, but still out of reach. He needed to disable Mira long enough to retrieve it.

He punched his palm and assumed a fighting stance, fists raised, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. Mira, undeterred, tossed her bow aside and mirrored his stance, eyes locked on his.

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"Come on," she said. "Let’s finish this."

They paced around each other in a tight circle, a palpable tension crackling between them, neither was backing down. Then, as if by some unspoken signal, they launched themselves at each other simultaneously.

Mira struck first, her fists a blur of motion. Jabs rained down on Lucian, followed by a series of low kicks aimed at his legs then a roundhouse. He dodged and weaved with fluid movements before backing away, trying to create distance between them. But Mira pressed forward and powered through, not giving him a second to react.

She unleashed a surge of punches and kicks, her combos flowing like water, but Lucian, being on the defensive again, parried and blocked every strike while biding his time for an opportunity to strike back. Feeling the strain in his muscles as he fought to keep up with her assault, he was starting to falter in his weakened state. This is not good.

As his situation deteriorated, his eyesight began to blur, with Mira's face appearing and disappearing as she pummeled him again and again. Each blow she landed sent shockwaves of pain through his body, muscles screaming in protest as he struggled to maintain his defense.

He couldn't keep this up much longer. The temporary relief from his hunger was fading fast, and with it, his strength. Soon, her punches would break through his guard, and he would be at her mercy.

His eyes darted to the spear that was out of reach. If he could just get to it, one well-placed strike could end this fight. But Mira was too fast, too aggressive. She wouldn't give him the opening he needed.

Desperation clawed at him as he fought to keep his footing, his world narrowing to the space between them, the exchange of blows and the burning need to survive.

Then, Mira leaped into the air, her leg arcing towards his head in a powerful flying roundhouse kick. Lucian raised his arm to block but the impact jarred his bones and sent him stumbling back. His foot was caught on a rock and fell, the ground rushing up to meet him. He hit the dirt hard while rolling with the impact and his breath was driven from his lungs.

He remained still for a moment, feeling shocked and disoriented, his sight blurry and his body sore. He had to get up, he had to keep fighting, but his limbs felt heavy and sluggish. Hunger gnawed at him like a persistent void, slowly consuming him.

"No," he thought. "This can’t be happening."

It seems that he’s out of energy and out of options. His defense is crumbling, and his arms can no longer withstand another block. He strains to find a way out, but his weary body refuses to comply. This may very well be the end for him. If he cannot come up with a new strategy in this fight, all will be lost. His life will be forfeit, as well as Stephanos, and victory will slip from his grasp.

Mira stood over and looked down at him, chest heaving. "Had enough?" she asked.

Lucian rolled onto his back, panting hard. "I gotta admit," he gasped out between breaths, "I didn't think I'd last this long."

Mira nodded, wiping sweat from her brow. "I'm surprised too that you've lasted this long." She paused, then added, "But every fight has to end sometime."

Lucian pushed himself off the ground, his legs shaking as he rose and leaned on his knees for support. "Yeah," he said, steadying himself. "This has been... something else. Best fight I've ever had."

"Too bad you have to die."

Lucian managed a weak smile. "Yeah. Too bad."

"See you in the other life."

"And you as well."

Mira lunged forward and closed the distance between them in an instant. In that split second, Lucian's hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of sand. As Mira bore down on him, he flung it directly into her eyes, blinding her.

"Fuck!" She screamed, stumbling back and clawing at her face. "You dirty fucking bastard!"

Lucian didn't waste a second and sprinted towards the spear. He snatched it up just as Mira regained her vision. Widened with realization that the tables had turned, she lunged at him, desperate to recover from her momentary disadvantage. Lucian braced himself and shifted to the side before hurling the spear with all his remaining strength.

It sliced through the air with a vengeful hiss, finding its target in Mira's shoulder. The impact was powerful enough to knock her off balance and send her tumbling to the ground.

She cried out in pain, clutching at the spear lodged in her shoulder. She hesitated to pull it out, knowing the wound would bleed more freely once the weapon was removed.

Lucian stood there, hardly believing what had just happened. The fight was over and Mira lay defeated. He approached her slowly, his own breath coming in ragged gasps from the exertion and the rush of adrenaline ebbing away.

"You fucking cheated!" Mira yelled through gritted teeth. "You blinded me with sand!"

"I didn’t know there were rules," Lucian said, his voice hoarse. "It's over, yield."

"Never," she spat. "I'd rather die than surrender to you."

"Don't be stupid. You're beaten. There's no shame in-"

"Fuck you," Mira snarled, cutting him off. "You think this is about shame? You have no idea what's at stake here."

"What are you talking about?"

Before Mira could respond, a voice rang out from behind them. "That's enough!"

Lucian whirled around to see the Whisperer striding towards them, flanked by two guards.

"The fight is over," she declared. "Lucian has won."

Mira struggled to sit up, wincing as the movement jostled the spear in her shoulder. "No," she protested. "I can still-"

She silenced her daughter with a sharp gesture. "I said it's over. Guards, take care of her. Patch up that wound." As the guards moved to assist Mira, the Whisperer turned her attention to Lucian. "Impressive performance. You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Aren’t you worried about your daughter?"

"Don’t worry about her. She’ll live. She’s as strong as a bull."

His head was spinning. The adrenaline from the fight was fading, leaving him weak and disoriented. "What about Stephanos?"

"He'll be taken care of as well. Now, you and I need to have a talk. I'm sure you have many questions, and I have answers to give."

Lucian opened his mouth to reply, but the words wouldn't come. His vision blurred, and he felt his knees buckle beneath him. The last thing he saw was the Whisperer's face before darkness claimed him.