Avery's chest heaved, sweat dripping down her brow as she parried yet another of Emma's relentless strikes. Her arms ached, her legs trembled, and the realization hit her like a hammer:
'If this keeps up, I'm done.'
Exhaustion was creeping in, sapping her strength with every dodged blow, every countered thrust. She couldn't let it drag on, she'd lose to sheer stamina if nothing else.
'No choice.' She thought, her jaw clenching. 'One final strike—everything I've got.' She had to end it now, before Emma's uncanny precision wore her down completely.
So, as Emma's sword clashed against hers, Avery seized the moment.
With a surge of strength, she parried hard, the force sending Emma stumbling back a step.
Now!...Avery lunged forward, planting her foot deep in the dirt, and raised her sword high overhead. She brought it down in a brutal arc, aiming to slash from Emma's shoulder to her abdomen—a lethal, unstoppable blow, one she'd used to cleave through seasoned foes.
