Breaking the Norm

Asher's vision slowly cleared, revealing both combatants still standing—seemingly unharmed, yet the air between them was still filled with tension. Neither of them was backing down, and they seemed to want nothing more than to kill each other.

Lucy, however, wasn't as unaffected as she looked.

Her blood-forged battle dress, which had once glowed with a powerful aura, had started to weaken. The strong fabric no longer looked as fierce. It appeared torn and worn, like it couldn't hold up much longer in the fight.

Even from a distance, he could see it—Lucy's face was tight, her eyes losing their focus, her movements more sluggish. She didn't look good, and the toll of the fight was becoming evident with every passing second.

'I have to help her,' he muttered, clicking his tongue in annoyance as uncertainty began to creep in.