Each exchange revealed more about Vorath’s fighting style, and slowly but surely, Ezra began to adapt.

The tide of the fight was far from turning, but for the first time since it began, Ezra felt a spark of hope.

While unsure of what exactly allowed Ezra to keep track of his attacks, Vorath certainly did not like that the pest had begun to muster resistance.

And so, he increases his speed, becoming a complete blur.

Simultaneously snuffing away whatever spark of hope Ezra had.

Because while Zydrax gave clear instructions, Voraths speed now lay beyond what Ezra could react to even if he knew where it was coming from.

Each exchange revealed more about Vorath’s fighting style, and slowly but surely, Ezra began to adapt.

The tide of the fight was far from turning, but for the first time since it began, Ezra felt a spark of hope.

He had studied his opponent well, noting the fluidity and precision of each blow, the deliberate placement of strikes meant to disorient and incapacitate rather than kill.

Vorath’s style was less about raw power, though there was plenty of it, and more about controlling the flow of the fight, suffocating his opponent’s every move.

From this, one could tell Vorath has the sick hobby of systematically torturing his opponents, thoroughly breaking them apart.

The elf’s mastery of space and timing had kept Ezra on the defensive from the start, but now there was a glimmer of understanding that made Ezra’s body react just a fraction faster.

Vorath, however, did not like that his prey had started to muster any sort of resistance.

"It seems you’re able to handle this much" says Vorath, his voice echoing throughout the cove. "But I’m just getting started"

With a flicker of irritation crossing his features, he increased his speed, launching into a new, even more brutal onslaught.

"Let’s see how you fare against a fraction of my true power!"

Ezra’s mind raced as he felt the air around him shift.

He could see the elf’s movements in slightly greater detail, but they were still almost too fast to comprehend.

Vorath’s fist shot forward, a blur of motion aimed directly at Ezra’s head.

He barely has time to react, instinctively raising his left arm to block the blow.

The impact is staggering, sending a shockwave through his body that made his bones scream in protest.

Before Ezra could recover, Vorath was already upon him again.

He twisted his body mid-air, his leg shooting out in a vicious roundhouse kick that connected with Ezra’s ribs with an audible crack.

The force of the strike lifted Ezra off the ground, and for a moment, he felt himself weightless.

As if in slow motion, Ezra was sent spinning through the air, barely registering the elf’s mocking laughter as Vorath taunted him.

"Did you really think you could stop me?" Vorath’s voice was icy, his words cutting through the cacophony of Ezra’s ringing ears.

Ezra’s body was already spinning in the air, disoriented by the powerful blow.

He barely managed to twist his body, trying to absorb the impact of the next attack, but it came too fast.

As he flew through the air, halfway through his tumbling arc, Vorath arrived before him once again.

Adding to injury, his foot collides into Ezra’s back, hitting his lower spine.

The brutal kick felt like a hammer smashing through glass, and Ezra felt the breath explode from his lungs.

His body bent awkwardly, and his vision swam as his consciousness began to blur.

WHAM!

Ezra crashed into the stone alcove with a sickening thud, his entire body slamming into the rocky surface with such force that the air left his lungs in an involuntary gasp.

He could feel the jagged rocks digging into his skin, the sharp pain only adding to his growing disorientation.

Blood began to pour from his nose, his vision flashing red as the world spun wildly around him.

"Is that all?" Vorath’s voice was cruel, mocking, as if he were addressing a child who couldn’t play a game properly.

Ezra’s head buzzed, his ears ringing from the impact.

He tried to focus, to push past the blinding pain in his ribs, but everything seemed to move too quickly, too violently.

Without giving Ezra any time to recover, Vorath reached down, grabbing him by the collar.

His grip was iron-tight, and he effortlessly hoisted Ezra off the ground as if he were no more than a ragdoll.

With a wicked grin, Vorath twisted his body, spinning them both in a disorienting circle.

The world seemed to tilt, and Ezra’s stomach churned with the force of the movement.

Before he could even process what was happening, Vorath released him, throwing him with unimaginable force.

The momentum sent Ezra careening through the air like a human projectile.

He had no time to brace himself as he flew through the tunnel, unable to halt his collision course with the wall at the far end.

BOOM!

The force of his impact reverberated through the entire cavern, the sound echoing with the power of a small explosion.

Ezra’s body slammed into the stone with an earth-shaking impact, the air leaving his lungs as if he had been struck by a freight train.

His vision darkened, and blood pooled in his mouth, splattering onto the stone beneath him as his head struck the hard surface with a sickening crack.

For a moment, everything went silent.

His ears rang so loudly he could hear nothing else, and the world around him spun in dizzying circles.

His head throbbed, the pressure unbearable as his body was wracked with pain from every angle.

Every breath felt like it might be his last, and blood seeped from the corners of his mouth, mingling with the dirt on his skin.

His limbs felt heavy, his vision blurred as his consciousness flickered on the edge of oblivion.

But even in this state, something inside Ezra refused to give in.

His mind screamed at him to move, to fight back, to survive.

His body, however, was not cooperating.

His muscles screamed in agony, his bones aching from the brutal punishment, and yet he managed to push himself into a sitting position.

The world was spinning wildly, his vision swimming in and out of focus, but Ezra fought through the haze of pain.

His chest heaved as he tried to force oxygen into his lungs, but it was a battle he was losing.

Blood continued to trickle from the open gash on his head, and his vision swam with the edges of blackness.

Despite everything, his body was still fighting for survival, still refusing to surrender.

"You really thought you could stand up to me?" Vorath’s voice pierced through Ezra’s dazed mind like a shard of ice.

The elf appeared in front of him once more, a cruel smile twisting his lips as he surveyed the wreckage of his opponent.

"You are nothing more than a child playing in the deep waters. You never had a chance."

Ezra could barely hear the elf’s words, his mind barely registering the mocking tone.

His eyes, barely open, focused on Vorath’s form.

The elf looked almost too perfect—every movement calculated, every expression meticulously crafted to mock him.

He could sense the immense power in the elf’s presence, a pressure that seemed to crush Ezra beneath its weight.

But even as he lay broken, barely able to keep his head upright, Ezra’s gaze hardened.

His chest heaved as he swallowed the blood that had pooled in his mouth.

With great effort, he managed to push himself up to his feet, swaying dangerously as the world around him twisted like a drunken blur. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"You think you’ve won?" Ezra croaked, his voice hoarse but defiant.

Vorath burst into laughter and his smile deepened, his amusement palpable as he regarded Ezra’s defiant stance.

"It seems you to wish to play the hero, I’ll ensure you meets a fitting end"

Ezra wiped the blood from his lips, his hand shaking as he did so. "I’m not finished yet"

Vorath scoffed. "You’re not even in the fight anymore. You’re done."

Ezra’s mind raced, his body screaming for rest, but one thought cut through the fog of pain: he needed to find a way to turn the tide.

But as Vorath advanced, his aura flaring, Ezra realized with a sinking feeling that the elf’s confidence wasn’t just arrogance—it was a reflection of the deadly truth.

The elf was stronger. Much stronger.

And yet, in the pit of his gut, Ezra knew he couldn’t let this be the end.

Not now. Not after everything.

Ezra staggered, his body on the verge of collapse.

Blood dripped from his split lips, pooling beneath him as he swayed on unsteady feet.

His thoughts were a haze of pain and despair.

’I ca... I can’t beat him. I ca-can’t win’ he thought, the words echoing in his mind like a cruel refrain.

His chest heaved, every breath a struggle as the enormity of the gap between him and Vorath pressed down on him like an iron weight.

The elf loomed before him, radiating a chilling aura of dominance.

Each step Vorath took seemed to crush the very air around them, his mocking smirk twisting into something darker, something far more dangerous. Ezra’s vision blurred, his head swimming as he fought to stay conscious.

Maybe... His mind flickers to the <Sovereign Space>, a desperate thought clawing its way to the forefront.

But even through the fog clouding his mind, Ezra knew the truth—Vorath was too strong.

The elf’s overwhelming speed and power wouldn’t be diminished there.

If anything, it might make things worse.

"You’re hesitating." Vorath’s voice cut through the ringing in Ezra’s ears like a knife. "Good. That means you’ve finally realized the futility of it all."

Ezra’s hands trembled as he clenched his fists, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and adrenaline.

Just as he considered dragging both of them into sovereign universe, Zydrax’s voice rang in his head, sharp and urgent.

[ Don’t be foolish, Ezra! The <Sovereign Space> won’t save you] Zydrax warned.

Ezra’s stomach sank.

"Then what am I supposed to do?" he whispered hoarsely, the words barely audible over his labored breathing.

[Run]