Queen Nalai stood in the center of the arena, her long aquamarine hair tied in a warrior's braid. Gone was the stately, royal dress that had once draped her form like divine silk. In its place, she wore streamlined battle armor, shades of dark and glimmering blue flowing over her figure. The metal clung tightly to her limbs, flexible enough for movement yet elegant, clearly forged from materials that were worthy of sovereigns.
If Serika was a flame dancing to a war drum, then Nalai was the ocean in motion: calm, relentless, inevitable.
She smiled at Quinlan as he stepped back into the ring, freshly healed, freshly humbled.
"I trust you've digested the first lesson?" she asked lightly while rolling her shoulders. Her tone was serene, her expression unreadable.
Quinlan exhaled slowly, cycling his breath. The memory of Serika's last explosive kick still echoed in his bones.
"She fought with explosive bursts. You… you're going to try and drown me, aren't you?"
