The hiss of steel against steel rang out as Harriet's blade came down in a savage arc. The strike was fast—too fast for Aira to fully evade—and it slammed hard into her side. The shock reverberated through her armor, the metal groaning under the force, and she knew with certainty that if not for that protective shell, she would have been carved open to the bone.
The impact sent her stumbling backward, breath ripping from her lungs. Pain flared across her ribs as she twisted away, barely bringing her sword up in time to keep Harriet from following through and severing her arm. Her boots scraped across the arena floor, grit grinding beneath them as she regained her footing.
