Shota lunged forward, pride blazing in his eyes.
Lira didn't flinch. Her fists glowed a deep, violent purple, the air around her trembling under the raw energy.
Each step she took shattered the ground beneath her.
Dust, debris, and sparks erupted like mini-explosions with every motion.
Shota swung, faster than thought, striking with deadly precision—but Lira's aura moved with him, countering, repelling, and amplifying with each hit.
Fists collided, and the resulting shockwave sent cracks racing across the entire forge.
Even Kael and Prince Eldarin were thrown to the ground, shielding themselves from the raw force.
Lira's punches were no longer simple strikes.
They bent space, slowed time, and tore through the illusions of reality Shota tried to create.
Each impact carried the weight of mountains, the force of storms, and the unpredictability of chaos itself.
Shota tried to retaliate, his pride fueling every strike, but the ground beneath him crumbled, walls shattered, and even concepts of distance and speed seemed to warp under Lira's power.
"…Impossible…" he muttered, eyes widening in terror and awe.
"…How… how can one human be this strong?"
Lira smiled, a dangerous, calm smile.
"…Because I'm me," she said softly.
Purple energy surged along her fists, wrapping Shota in a storm of unstoppable force.
The forge shook violently, fires dancing wildly, molten metal spilling from broken furnaces.
Shota screamed as her fists struck again and again, each hit faster, stronger, more unpredictable.
Kael and Eldarin watched in stunned silence.
"…That… is… not normal," Kael whispered.
Prince Eldarin's pride faltered completely. "…She… she's beyond anyone's reckoning…"
The battle was no longer just between two generals—it was a display of Lira's true wrath.
Every strike she unleashed redefined the meaning of strength, power, and destruction.
And in that moment, everyone realized:
There was no stopping her.
There was no defending against her.
There was only surviving… if one was lucky.
To Be Continued…