Lyra feinted left, drawing Damien’s guard, then pivoted sharply and thrust her rapier toward his unguarded flank. Damien barely managed to twist out of the way, the blade grazing his side. Pain flared, but he pushed it aside, focusing on her next move.

Lyra pressed her advantage, her attacks a blur of motion. Damien deflected one strike, then another, his movements precise and calculated. He saw an opening and struck, his blade aiming for her shoulder. Lyra twisted, the tip of his sword barely missing her. She countered with a swift slash that forced Damien to retreat.

“You’re improving,” Lyra said, her tone even. “But you’re still too predictable.”

Damien gritted his teeth. He needed to change his approach. Instead of reacting to her attacks, he began to take the initiative. He advanced with a series of quick, powerful strikes, forcing Lyra to defend. Her rapiers flashed as she parried each blow, her movements a perfect blend of speed and precision.

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The crowd watched in awe as the battle intensified. Damien and Lyra moved across the arena in a deadly dance, their blades a blur of motion. Every strike was met with a counter, every attack with a defense. Sweat dripped from Damien’s brow, but he didn’t falter.

He saw his chance when Lyra lunged, her blade aimed at his chest. Damien sidestepped, his sword arcing toward her exposed side. Lyra reacted instantly, twisting away, but not before his blade grazed her armor. She smiled faintly, acknowledging the hit.

“Not bad,” she said. “But let’s see how you handle this.”