I can't even follow them with my eyes… Cynthia thought, gripping the windowsill.
Nolan felt the weight in Lyra's strikes. She's right. She's getting stronger… her punches carry more weight than mine now. Because of the behemoth's power. But— he smirked— I'm faster.
He let his speed climb. Their fists blurred, the count skyrocketing—two hundred exchanges in the span of a single second. Lyra braced, but the rhythm was tilting toward him.
She suddenly swung a sharp kick toward his jaw. Nolan caught her leg midair, twisted, and tossed her aside. But Lyra wasn't finished. She rotated in the air, body perfectly balanced, and unleashed a volley of midair kicks at him before her feet could even touch the ground.
Nolan raised his guard, teeth clenched. "Impressive," he muttered, bracing for the storm of strikes.
