She used the wind to propel herself sideways at blinding speed, reappearing three meters to her left, her wings beating silently.
She charged again immediately.
Her strikes became faster, more pressing. A series of blows rained down on him like a storm. High slash, low slash, thrust, backhand. He parried, dodged, blocked, but each impact pushed him back a little further. The black blade met the ice sword in a crashing sound. The white sword crossed a thrust aimed at his heart.
He feinted a low strike with the black blade, drawing her guard toward the ground, then instantly brought the other one up toward her face. But she anticipated and leaned back at the last moment.
In that off-balance position, she planted her free hand on the ground, used her wings to propel herself, and performed a backward cartwheel that brought her back to her feet while sending a spinning kick toward his jaw. The foot, wrapped in wind and frost, struck him full in the head.
