Milly's chest heaved, sweat sliding down her forehead as she circled the Sage. Every instinct told her to stay cautious, but then she spotted an opening a brief moment when the Sage shifted his weight, leaving a small gap in his defense.
This is it, she thought, heart pounding. I have to try it… but not too much.
Her hands moved instinctively, forming the shape of a sphere. A faint glow emanated as she whispered, "Blagos Endos." The fireball was small, perfectly controlled, just enough to avoid another headache. But even in that limited form, it burned with a red-and-black intensity far unlike any fireball the Sage had ever seen.
"Wait what?" the Sage muttered, raising his arms too late. His eyes widened as the fireball shot forward, faster than any spell he had encountered before.
The impact hit him squarely on his arm, sending a scorching pain across his body. Smoke rose as the charred edges of his robe sizzled. He staggered but did not fall. Slowly, he stood upright, his arm burned but his posture still strong.
Milly exhaled sharply, relief and worry mingling together. It worked… she thought. The beam didn't appear this time… but next time? I don't know if I can control it. And what about him?
She clenched her fists, her golden eyes narrowing. The Sage, though wounded, gave her a measured glance, one that carried both respect and calculation. "Impressive," he said, voice hoarse from the heat and pain. "You've got skill beyond what I expected, Mila… but don't let it make you overconfident."
Milly nodded silently, keeping her stance firm. "I… I won't," she thought, her mind racing with both strategy and the lingering caution of her abilities. She knew the battle was far from over, and every move now had to be precise.
The arena fell into tense silence once more, the remnants of the small fireball smoldering in the air, a reminder of her power and the danger she carried with every spell she dared to release.