Northern looked at her again. This time, his gaze carried a strange light of carefulness and resolve, blazing with an ethereal blue radiance.
Soraya paused for a moment, hesitating, before she spun her sword and launched forward. Northern extended one hand upward, two fingers poised before his face.
Thin, elongated arrows of fire began to materialize around him, casting a twilight glow across the coliseum. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though dawn was breaking anew.
Then, the flames blazed dangerously and streaked forward.
As they came, Soraya moved.
She flowed in a zigzag pattern, spinning her death scythe as she glided across the landscape, feet barely touching the ground as if gravity itself bent to her will.
The first flames made contact. The scythe spun, catching the light in a serene and peaceful dance, resembling a crescent moon brought to life under the harsh daylight.
Northern watched something fantastic unfold before his eyes.
