Before Lilura could ask a question, Silas struck.
A sheath appeared in his side and he sheathed his sword in a flash.
"I would just beat it into your head," he said, getting into stance, fists in front of his head.
Lilura looked at him with a cold smile.
"You think I am Billie?" She asked, a slightly amused chuckle escaping her lips.
"Using your fist only draws the unec."
Silas said nothing.
He let his fists do the talking as he lunged upward, reaching her in a breath.
His fist shot forward, spiralling as aether surged through it in uncontrollable bursts.
Lilura moved to meet him, her fists exploding forward as a dense layer of aether pressed against her fist, concentrated and far more potent than Silas's wild aether.
The fists collided.
A tremor swept through the air, destabilizing the very space they hovered in.
They were not done.
Their other fists moved in tandem, their bodies responding as if controlled by a singular mind.
The air detonated.
