Arya dashed toward the orc with every ounce of speed he had left. His comrade had already fallen, blood spilling across the ground. Arya clenched his teeth, his chest heaving.
"This is my last chance," he muttered under his breath, eyes burning with determination. "If I miss this… I die."
He gripped his sword tighter, his knuckles turning white. The orc noticed his charge and raised its heavy blade to block. Their weapons clashed with a deafening clang—steel against steel—sending a shockwave through the air. Sparks flew, and the ground trembled beneath their feet.
Arya's body screamed in pain, but he didn't back down. "I'll kill you… no matter what," he growled, pouring every last drop of mana he had into his arms.
With a final roar, Arya's blade surged forward, shattering the orc's weapon with a sharp crack. The broken pieces of the orc's sword flew into the dirt. Arya didn't hesitate. In one swift motion, he swung his blade and sliced clean through the orc's thick neck.
