Elaria drew in a deep breath, then released a glowing arrow that shot like green lightning toward Dolam's chest. But the human knight moved fast—far too fast for a man in full armor—and the arrow missed by mere inches, slicing the air with a sharp whistle.
Dolam countered immediately. With a brutal swing, the massive mace in his hand came down like the hammer of a god toward Elaria's position. Dirt and stone erupted on impact, forming a small crater and blasting dust into the air.
But the princess had already leapt aside, her body twisting gracefully in midair before landing in a low stance. Shards of stone struck her shoulders and arms, cutting into her skin with sharp pain—but not deep enough to slow her down.
Her breath was slightly ragged, but her eyes never left Dolam. This wasn't just a battle for the fortress—it was redemption for the fear that once imprisoned her. And Elaria knew she couldn't waver.
