A Damsel but not in Distress    

Ironfist couldn't believe it. He had been bested—by a nobody, no less—and what made it worse, the guy hadn't even broken a sweat. Horizon hadn't drawn his sword, hadn't activated a single skill. He simply dodged, weaving through Ironfist's relentless, wild attacks without breaking a sweat.

And yet, somehow, Ironfist had lost.

How could that be?

A fighter like him, a Tier-4 Warrior Monk with monstrous stats, should've torn through someone like Horizon.

But no matter how hard he swung, no matter how powerful his strikes were, he couldn't land a single hit. Horizon didn't even bother to counterattack—he didn't need to. Every dodge, every sidestep, made Ironfist look like a lumbering fool.

To be outmatched by someone who didn't even have to try? It was infuriating.