Mira and Zehir clashed, their bodies moving with an unfathomable speed, their skills unleashed with lethal precision. They fought in the midst of destruction, their figures occasionally enveloped in billowing dust and flying debris. The surroundings around them were obliterated, the earth shattered and upturned, creating a battlefield that resembled a barren wasteland.
The furious dance of their weapons echoed through the battlefield, a rhythmic sound that throbbed in the hearts of onlookers. Their intense battle was akin to a spectacular show, except that each movement held life-and-death consequences.
The earth beneath Mira's feet shattered, her body battered and bruised, her clothes torn and stained with blood. She staggered but didn't fall. Opposite her, Zehir was no better off. His once splendid robes were ripped to shreds, blood seeping out from the many wounds in his body.
