Merlin

Zyrith's grin widened, her excitement palpable. "Good. I'd be disappointed if you did."

Zyrith rushes towards Helen and attacks her with her flaming sword, her strikes coming faster and harder. Helen struggled to keep up, her parries becoming slower and less precise as the battle wore on. Zyrith's blade grazed her again, this time across her thigh, and Helen cried out as she fell to one knee.

"You're slipping," Zyrith said, her tone almost pitying. "Is this really all you've got?"

Helen gripped her sword tightly, using it to push herself back to her feet. Blood trickled from her wounds, and her uniform was torn and scorched in multiple places. Her breaths were shallow, her body screaming in protest, but she refused to fall.