Can a virgin?

Lumine had the upper hand, and she knew it. Her strikes came at Cassian with a relentless rhythm, pushing him harder and faster. Her smirk widened with every graze she managed, every bruise that marked Cassian's defenses. He was on the back foot, sweat running down his face as he dodged, ducked, and parried, his muscles aching from the constant strain.

Yet despite the pressure, Cassian's mind was strangely clear. As he endured each of her blows, a thought began to take shape—small observations about her movements that began to connect like pieces of a puzzle. He noticed the subtle way she shifted her weight before each swing, the slight hesitation in her footwork when she transitioned from an upward slash to a thrust. The more he suffered her attacks, the sharper his focus became, like a blade being honed under constant pressure.