One move

Max stood tall, the wind fluttering his cloak as he smiled faintly behind his mask. "Your previous sword attacks didn't carry any sword concept," he said evenly, his tone calm and unhurried. "That's why it was easy for me to defend against them. If you want a real battle, you should use your full strength. Otherwise, my flames will burn you to ash."

Anya didn't flinch. Her grip on the sword tightened slightly, and her stance straightened. "You are strong," she said, her voice as steady as ever, "but not strong enough to defeat me."

That caught Max's attention. He tilted his head, just a little, a small gesture of curiosity. Her tone wasn't arrogant—it was factual. As though she were stating something that didn't need to be proven.

"Is that so?" he asked, a chuckle escaping his lips as he shook his head in amusement. "I could say the same. I also think you can't defeat me."