Dreadhorde - Doesn't tire

It wasn't that they were better than her, though her opponents were some of the best blademasters she had ever fought, dedicated champions who had lost none of their skill in death. She was a master herself, in the prime of her ability and training.

It wasn't that there were two of them against her alone, though the odds were not in her favor. She had chosen her two-blade style precisely because of its usefulness in fighting multiple opponents, and she felt a thrill as she parried and whirled and countered, her wrists a direct extension of her mind, changing between relaxed and tense as she kept herself alive for another parry, another swing, another breath. One more breath.

No, she was going to lose this fight because she was human. And they were not.

Her shoulders ached. Her lungs labored. Her legs tired.

***

HOUR OF ETERNITY