[center][h2][color=8493ca]Brunhilde[/color][/h2][/center]
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Every cell in Brunhilde's body screamed for retribution, and she found herself unable to control her actions. She would die rather than allow him to continue his bullshit, regardless of how many times he dodged her strikes or how many times he struck her in return. Murderous intent leaked into the atmosphere without shape or direction, and it began to grow hotter, dryer, louder. Shortly, Vallen's words would be drowned out by the violent vibration of the air.

She instinctively knew that if he had dodged that last kick, he would avoid most others. Rather than landing, though, she continued her flurry of kicks in midair, aiming at every underprotected spot, striking three moves ahead of herself, striking without rhythm. The cyclones around her fists had formed around her feet as well, and even a glancing blow would result in a deep laceration. One touch and it would become a race against blood loss for Vallen, just as it was already a race of time. Brunhilde initially had no idea it was happening, but every bit of energy and hatred leaking into the surrounding space was contributing to what would almost certainly be death for both of them, provided she didn't have a heart attack from overexertion first.

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