The final battle was about to begin. Under the watchful gazes of countless spectators, Eleanor and Annette bowed politely to each other. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with anticipation and the weight of expectations.
Eleanor’s interest wasn’t high; she found it hard to concentrate. Her mind was elsewhere, troubled by an ominous hunch that Robert might have encountered trouble. The worry gnawed at her, making it hard to focus on the task at hand.
Just as she was distracted, Annette's long legs, driven by immense force and determination, kicked straight at her face. Annette's ruthlessness was unexpected, but Eleanor's sharp reflexes saved her from a direct hit. She narrowly avoided the blow, but being initially distracted had already put her at a disadvantage. Annette's relentless attacks were fierce and deadly as if Eleanor was her sworn enemy.