The desert night howled with madness.
The woman lunged first—her bare body twisting unnaturally, veins glowing with a sickly crimson light as corrupted mana writhed around her like serpents. Luca's sabers flashed upward, twin arcs of silver moonlight, but the impact rattled his bones. Her mana wasn't just power—it was hunger given form.
The sand beneath them rippled as if reality itself bent under her weight. Every strike from her bare hands cracked the air like thunder. She moved like a lover and a butcher both, every graze of her touch leaving his skin burning as if she were branding his soul.
"Fight harder, pretty boy," she purred, her lips glistening with a twisted smile. "I want to hear you break."
Luca's sabers crossed, deflecting another strike. Sparks scattered, tiny stars swallowed by the dark. His breath tore through his lungs, sweat streaking his temple.
Dammit… her mana—it's too thick, too corrupted. Every clash is like cutting through tar.
