As the girl grasped her spear and spun it with ferocious speed, Nyssira shifted the weight of her hammer—and her stance. A slow, deliberate adjustment. Her gaze rose, locking onto her opponent with a calm that bordered on contempt.
Then the girl lunged.
Nyssira moved.
Her movement was soft—almost lazy. But in the very next breath, the girl who had been charging forward was suddenly airborne, eyes stretched wide, caught mid-run in a moment she would never complete.
What the crowd saw next was only the aftermath—the echo of a blow that had already fallen. Nyssira's hammer had soundlessly slammed into the girl's skull, sending her hurtling across the arena like a broken marionette.
She crashed near the platform's edge, limbs folding and rolling until she slipped off the stage entirely.
