Lyra's weapon bit into Imdiirn's right calf as she passed by.
A large gash was left by her blade, and the silvery blue flames licked around the edges, preventing the shadows from covering the wound up and resting the damage.
"Damn you! Fight me properly already, coward!" Imdiirn roared.
He was riddled in hundreds of injuries at this point.
Normally, he would have recovered from each attack almost immediately, but Lyra's flames prevented him from utilizing his powerful racial ability to heal by melding with the shadows.
'Yeah, like a provocation like that is going to work.' Lyra thought as her opponent raged.
She had managed to avoid taking as single hit so far, while slowly whittling away at Imdiirn's health and stamina.
If nothing else, though, he was durable. Lyra felt like she would be at this for hours at this rate.
Still, she did not plan on changing her strategy. At least not yet.
