The clash tore through the desert, sending waves of force across the golden dunes. Sand exploded outward, while the sky above them warped and flickered under the pressure of their collision. Sparks of raw flame scattered in every direction, burning brightly before fading into the air.
Ilyndra showed no surprise at Emery's ability to withstand her attacks.
She simply kept coming.
A third strike.
Then a fourth.
A fifth.
Each attack was faster and heavier than the last, her movements carrying the relentless pressure of a Supreme who had no concern for defense. There was no hesitation in her expression, no anger, and no emotion at all. She attacked with the cold efficiency of a creature that only cared about tearing its prey apart.
Emery blocked every one.
The sixth strike came from above.
He raised Excalibur just in time, the javelin crashing against the divine blade and forcing his arms downward before he redirected the force to the side.
The seventh swept toward his waist.
