At the intense war, where Morrigan stood and Lunara kneeled across from her, her torn and blood-stained cloth clinging to her battered form. Morrigan raised her double-edged axe in her right-hand grip and brought it down with deadly precision, the blade cutting through the air like a falling verdict. Just before it could strike the narrow gap between Lunara's left neck and shoulder, it stopped.
Lunara's index finger and thumb gripped the blade's tip tightly, resisting the crushing force behind it. Slowly, she lifted her bent neck, breath ragged, her gaze rising to meet Morrigan's. "Don't you think it's no fun when it ends like this?" Lunara said softly, her voice calm despite the blood on her lips. "I give you my word, my performance will be something to look up to." She smiled, thin and fearless.
