Friskle took out his blade, the polished metal gleaming under the dim alley light. His eyes locked onto Junna.
"I don't think you can run without telling me at least his location," he said, twirling the weapon effortlessly in his hand.
"Ara~ how bold." Junna smirked, drawing her own blade in a smooth, fluid motion.
CLANG!
The alley echoed with the sharp clash of steel meeting steel. Sparks flew as both blades pressed against each other, their wielders grinning despite the deadly tension crackling in the air.
For a brief second, their gazes met—two assassins, two predators, both too proud to back down.
Then, in a blur, they moved.
Friskle twisted his blade, aiming to push Junna back, but she anticipated it, pivoting on her heel and sliding her foot between his to destabilize him. He barely managed to leap back before she could sweep him off balance.
"Tch," he clicked his tongue before lunging forward, his blade slashing at lightning speed.
