The two ladies' swordplay was spectacular, their figures agile, their moves quick, with golden locks billowing. The fierce radiance of their swords intertwined, tracing cold, beautiful arcs across the half sky like a dance.
This was not a mere contest of strength; each strike was imbued with technique and combat experience, taught by the same master, and thus, unbreakable.
Being from different worlds meant they were different people, even if they shared the same face, change was inevitable.
The harsh living conditions of the Inverted World had shaped Rufullo's swordsmanship to be extreme and ruthless, gradually seizing the initiative and pressing Philomena.
The tips of their swords danced with a cold brightness, colliding to paint a magnificent, flowing picture.
Philomena's defense was watertight, and she calmly said, "Stop this, the conspirator lurks in the shadows. Even if you can kill me, you will not be the ultimate winner."