Willow, on the other side, was barely holding on.
Her knees buckled slightly, her palms scraped and bleeding. She had summoned every ounce of her remaining strength to raise a final wall of defense, but even that was crumbling. The man in front of her was no ordinary fighter—he was an earth user, like her. But unlike Willow's calculated, protective style, his earth magic was brutal, raw, and meant for destruction.
Rocks had formed into jagged claws around his fists. The ground beneath him was broken and sharp, like a battlefield sculpted by rage.
He towered over her now, his chest heaving slightly from the heat of the exchange, but his eyes were locked on her with deadly certainty.
"You're done," he growled, raising his arm for the finishing strike.
Willow barely lifted her head. Her breathing was weak, her limbs heavy. She had nothing left to block the next blow.
Then—CRASH!
Out of nowhere, Jonathan collided with the man like a meteor.
