The morning sun struggled to pierce the thick mist surrounding the Shadowed Coast. The air in the Nightraven arena was electric as Damien prepared for his battle with Lyra Silverthorn, the Silverthorn prodigy renowned for her unparalleled precision and agility.

The crowd gathered, their murmurs of anticipation filling the air. Damien entered the arena, his blade already unsheathed. Across from him, Lyra stood calm and composed, her twin rapiers shimmering faintly in the soft light.

The referee raised a hand. “Begin!”

Lyra moved first, her steps light and silent. She closed the distance between them in an instant, her rapiers flashing. Damien barely managed to parry the first strike, their blades clashing with a high-pitched ring. Lyra pressed forward, her strikes coming faster than Damien had anticipated. Each thrust and slash was precise, aiming for weak points in his defense.

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Damien stepped back, deflecting her attacks and trying to find an opening. Lyra’s speed was incredible—she seemed to be everywhere at once, her movements fluid and graceful. She lunged again, her blades darting toward Damien’s side. He twisted, narrowly avoiding the blow, and countered with a powerful slash.

Lyra dodged with ease, her expression calm. “You’ll need to be faster than that,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of challenge.

Damien narrowed his eyes, adjusting his stance. He began to match her pace, his blade moving in tight arcs to deflect her strikes. Lyra’s attacks were relentless, but Damien’s defenses held firm. He started to notice patterns in her movements—a slight shift in her stance before she lunged, a subtle twitch of her wrist before a feint.

He pressed forward, forcing Lyra to backpedal. Their blades clashed again and again, the sound of steel on steel echoing through the arena. Damien’s strikes grew more aggressive, his confidence building as he began to anticipate her moves.

But Lyra wasn’t done yet.