Tension was building at an uncanny rate. Iman eyed up the Masked Man. He assessed Iman, looking at her from head to toe. Their stare-down prolonged. While it did, the soldiers didn't think twice about interfering. Partially because they knew a burning desire was building within Iman who anticipated fighting the Masked Man, but also because, considering what they had just seen, they knew their chances at success were extremely thin. They simply watched on, waiting for something to happen between the two better equipped warriors.
Iman finally broke, anger fuelling her words as she pointed at the Masked Man. "Oi! Stop hiding up there. Come and face me like a true warrior. If you're really going to tear me apart as you say…then I'd like to see you try!"
The Masked Man grinned behind his mask and chuckled, but no one else could hear it. Though he found Iman amusing, he immediately did as she said, not without trying to undermine her, of course. He jumped into the air like he did earlier, only this time he threw himself even higher, before crashing down onto the floor right in front of Iman with a deafening thud. Dust from the floor spread through the air as he landed, his left knee flat on the ground as his right arm rested on his right leg.
"Your arrogance marks you. You must be one of the Hakimis," he antagonistically said as he rose to his feet, rising high above Iman. Iman remained still as she analysed his mask and, most importantly, body structure. The Masked Man, however, took no time in trying to get under her skin and leaned forward, reached out with his hand and tried to touch her face. "The one and only female Hakimi child. I hope for your sake you are more agile and equipped than that feeble younger brother of yours. Unfortunately, just by looking at you, I fear that you will fall short in your endeavour against me…just like he did—"
Iman pulled back her hand and, with a disapproving swing, slapped the Masked Man's face. "Shut up!"
"Tchhh." The Masked Man growled as his face pulled itself away from Iman's hand.
"How dare you speak to me like that! You kill my men and then try to touch my precious face. And you say I'm full of myself? Where are your manners?!"
Clearly not treating this situation as seriously as Iman, the Masked Man held his face where he had just been slapped and giggled, speaking sarcastically to further undermine Iman's attempts at asserting dominance. "That was quite the slap, my dear. Cowardly, but firm, nevertheless."
Iman took no time to initiate her attack, tired of the Masked Man's confidence. She raised her hands to her side as vines shot out from the floor from where she stood and wrapped around her opponent's legs, holding him firmly in position. "You're already boring me. Ughhh! How about you let me take that mask off and close that disgusting mouth for you? I have to admit, it'll be a shame if you're hiding something handsome."
The Masked Man looked down at his legs which were being tightly squeezed by the vines. He didn't seem too bothered. "How cute."
Iman yanked her hands toward herself, pulling the vine closer, causing the Masked Man to begin falling to the ground. "Not so confident now, are you?!" Iman said.
The Masked Man stuck out his hands, his palms facing the floor as he reused a move he had already used a number of times. Gusts of wind emitted from his hands, stopping him from crashing to the floor. And in quick succession, he propelled himself with the same gusts of wind right at Iman's face, his tightly pressed feet leading the charge. Iman swiftly dodged, but had clearly underestimated the Masked Man who was two steps ahead.
He twisted in the air to face Iman again, stretching his legs and ripping the vines that had kept his legs tied together. "My turn."
Though a metre or two from Iman, the Masked Man, having landed on his two feet, swung his arm, throwing an uppercut into the air. Again, wind sprang from his hand, pulling through the air, dragging the dust on the floor with it. The dust attacked Iman's eyes, forcing her to stumble back and frantically throw her hands across her face to get it out.
But as she did, the Masked Man had disappeared from where he had been standing. Iman looked around as she continued to fall back, unsure how he could have disappeared without a trace. "What, where the hell did he run off to?"
As she scampered backwards, she soon hit what she initially thought was a wall. But given her current surroundings, she was far from any house or other infrastructure. Then she listened carefully, and heard the muffled breathing of the Masked Man as he loomed over her from behind.
"Shit!" she thought, her eyes widening in fear.
She felt his hand rest against her back, and was soon thrust forwards by a violent gust of wind that appeared from the Masked Man's hand. Iman crashed to the floor, her black hair, which was previously tied up, now scruffy and covering her face.
As the Masked Man watched Iman try to pick herself back up, he asked a question. "Tell me, Iman. Amongst the Hakimi children, where would you rank yourself in terms of ability? I'm curious."
Iman lifted her hair from her face, her back still turned to the Masked Man as she clenched her teeth and spoke to herself. "What…is happening? I need to end this man, and then father will finally show me the praise I rightfully deserve. I can do it! This has never happened before!" The Masked Man was tired of waiting, and demanded she answer him.
"Didn't you hear me? Amongst the Hakimi children, where would you rank yourself—"
Iman spun around and viciously pointed at the Masked Man, a raging screech in her voice. "What does that matter? You are facing me! You should only care about what is right in front of you!"
The Masked Man repositioned himself, getting into a pose which one could only assume was a favoured battle stance. "I guess that means you are not satisfied with the answer. And, unfortunately, that was not the response I was looking for. But…I hope the rest of them are blinded by arrogance just as much as you are."
"Arghhhh, screw you!" Iman shouted as she charged at the Masked Man with immense vigour.
He, however, remained unfazed, pulled his right foot and arm back and readied himself, waiting for Iman to get a little closer to him. Once she did, he threw his right arm forwards, its palm pointing directly forward at Iman. As the Masked Man did this, another raging quantity of wind appeared from his hand, ploughing forward at Iman. The impact and force of the wind was so great that Iman was caught within it, and was violently thrown from the scene of the battle. She rose at least thirty meters into the air and became lost in the middle of a nearby forest.
"Pathetic," the Masked Man said as he opened and closed his hand continuously, stretching his fingers in the process.
Iman found herself lying amongst the forest. Broken trees, which she had smashed into, surrounded her as she lay still on the floor, unable to move from her position. Her clothes had ripped in several places and she could not only feel the many internal bruises which she had incurred, but also the open cuts spread across her body. She groaned, doing her best to move and find her way back to the Palace, but she knew, considering the damage which had been done to her body, she was going to have to be patient.
More than that, she had to use the time lying on the floor effectively, planning how she was going to make it back to the Palace quick enough to alarm her father and the rest of them of this oncoming threat which she now knew was far worse than she initially thought.