The girl stood before the poised men... her heart beating within her chest as adrenaline filled her body... she tensed, tightening the grip she had on the dagger... as the two mercenaries circled her like sheep up for appraisal. From one, they became two—it seemed the count had increased the difficulty.
Their movements, though tense, still failed to hide the arrogance they carried instinctively. No matter how dangerous the girl was, their mental aptitude did not allow them to accord her a danger level equal to their worst nightmares.
The girl did not move. She stood like a spring ready to be loaded.
She strained her eyes, watching for any sudden attacks. Her instincts screamed at her to keep her eyes on them no matter what. Unlike them, she had no skill whatsoever in combat...
A fight to the death was something else entirely—the desperation on both sides could be the deciding factor. How they used that desperation to increase their odds of survival might ensure victory.
