Feral

Scarlet's makeshift weapon blazed with a crimson ember encasing it. Each swing of her metal pipe held a powerful spell and mighty swings. For every attack, Cyril was forced to defend with his water construct.

'My step in wasn't deep enough!' Scarlet's thigh spread a bit apart before stepping forward with confidence in her next swing.

'I should have put more pressure onto my thumb!' Her hands blurred with her weapon as he endless assault continued on Cyril.

'You can move faster than that, Scarlet!' Air entered her lungs as she took a deep breath to revitalize her aching muscles. Her body remembered all the training that was etched into it by her mother. Like a master craftsman, Scarlet's Mother had molded her body to be in peak condition to use their sword techniques to their fullest.