As his voice fell, the man in black launched himself at Eleanor again, his movements sharp and aggressive. Eleanor, her expression unchanging, responded with a decisive counterattack. The two figures clashed in a flurry of strikes, their movements so fast they blurred together in the dim hallway.
Though the man in black towered over Eleanor, she was far more agile, her lithe form weaving through his attacks with ease. At first, their skills seemed evenly matched, each testing the other with calculated blows. But it quickly became evident that Eleanor was gaining the upper hand.
Her movements were swift, her strikes precise, and her instincts razor-sharp. She predicted every move the man-made, her counters so swift and deliberate that he began to falter. The man felt as though he were fighting a phantom—Eleanor’s speed and cunning were utterly overwhelming.