A Long-Held Grudge (2)

Dahlia didn't reply with words. Instead, she raised her halberd, its blade glowing with intense heat. She dragged the weapon across the ground, sparks flying as the metal cut through stone, leaving behind small bursts of flame.

The minotaur roared and charged, his massive frame barreling toward her with destructive force. He was much faster than one would expect for someone his size, his movements calculated and precise.

But Dahlia was ready. As he closed the distance, she thrust her halberd forward, unleashing a wave of fire that erupted in a violent arc. The flames roared, forcing the minotaur to halt abruptly and raise his axe as an improvised shield.

The heat was crushing, far more intense than he had anticipated. His fur began to sizzle, the acrid stench of burning hair seeping into his nostrils. Yet he didn't retreat. With a feral growl, he slammed his weapon into the ground, generating a shockwave that dispersed part of the flames.