The rhythm of the fight shifted.
For those first precious minutes, Selene's instincts had carried me. I had skilfully dodged and deflected, identified opportunities, and maintained my composure against a skilled northern warrior. The crowd's gasps and murmurs had been a distant backdrop to the focused intensity of survival.
But instincts could only carry me so far.
Runa's attacks grew sharper and more precise. She had stopped testing, stopped probing. She was fighting now, truly fighting, and the difference was immediate and devastating. Her movements were faster than my borrowed reflexes could track. Her combinations were more complex than Selene's defensive memories could counter.
The first blow landed on my shoulder.
Pain flared, sharp and real. I staggered and caught myself, but Runa was already moving, pressing her advantage. The second blow caught me in the ribs, driving the air from my lungs. I gasped, stumbled back, my defences crumbling.
