More and more wounds appeared across the body of the Enlightened One as the battle carried on. He had already abandoned the idea of escaping purely through speed; the woman was not only faster but stronger, so she could catch up to him and stop his advance with ease.
The only chance he had was to find a brief opening, wound her, and then flee before she recovered. Unfortunately, things were not going well.
His staff moved in irregular, unpredictable patterns—extending, enlarging, and twisting with each thought—but the woman's arm had turned completely obsidian, allowing her to block the staff with nothing but her bare hand. Whenever she struck him in return, he suffered serious internal injuries.
Another palm strike landed against his chest, sending the Enlightened One crashing through several trees. He slammed into the ground, coughing up a mouthful of blood.
"Answer my question, and I will show you mercy," the violet-eyed woman said. "I promise it in my name—Atena."
