Bituin found Shanice lying on the floor, stomach bleeding. Her face was bruised and wounded. Seeing the dark woman lying awkwardly, the former paraplegic could assess that her bones were broken. Shanice’s enemy was about to deliver the final blow to her, aiming to cut her neck with the flaming sword, which was thanks to it that Bituin’s attention was caught immediately.
The pixie-haired slave fighter met the flaming sword with the mace she had in possession. The clang sounded thick and strong. The contact left Bituin’s hand and arm vibrating from the force of it. She panted, feeling that her wound in her chest was not totally healed yet. But she endured it.
With her left hand, where she held the ax, she swung the blade and cut the opponent’s forearm that held the sword. He growled in pa
