"Brother!" said the young noblewoman. She let out a horrified shriek as her elder brother collapsed onto the blood-slicked stones, clutching his broken, bleeding face.
"How dare you, you low-born beast!" said the young mistress. Her eyes blazed with fury as she violently drew her sword. The blade instantly erupted into a roaring, scorching sheet of red flame that illuminated the dark plaza. "True Lion's Fire Slash!"
She lunged forward, swinging the burning blade in a lethal vertical arc meant to incinerate Ethan on the spot.
Ethan simply tilted his head to the side, the fiery edge missing his ear by an inch. He looked directly into her enraged eyes, his expression completely bored.
"Is this the kind of fire you use to roast meat?" said Ethan. He let out a low, mocking chuckle. "It feels entirely too weak to even warm my tea."
"Die!" said the young mistress. Blinded by raw hatred, she twisted her stance and threw a desperate horizontal strike aimed at his throat.
