On the raised dueling platform in the Academy Arena, the fight was still going.
Eve Summers refused to admit defeat.
Even now, when her breath came short and sharp and her arms were starting to tremble, she still forced herself to keep swinging. But the longer the bout dragged on, the more she fell into Leo Shaw’s rhythm—and the more she suffered for it.
Leo’s style in this match was nothing like the straightforward, overwhelming assaults he’d used in the previous two fights. Against Eve, he was shameless. He circled, cut in at strange angles, deliberately avoided direct power clashes and instead picked at every tiny opening her movements left exposed. Every time she thought she’d finally predicted his next move, he slipped sideways, changed tempo, or came in from an angle she hadn’t ev
