For the most part, you probably want to write in the active voice when possible. That’s because sentences written in active voice are generally clearer, more direct, and more compact.
The main problems with passive voice, then, are as follows:
It can be wordy. A lot of the time, passive voice requires awkward, lengthy, convoluted sentences instead of short, punchy, straightforward ones.
Most of the time, moving passive voice sentences to active voice will tighten your prose, make it more readable, and as a result confuse your readers less.

Think of paragraph breaks as giving the reader a second of pause to take the content in, absorb the meaning and place it in greater image of the story. It's a bite-sized portion of information. Sentences are for clarity while reading and sections/chapters are for continuity separation, but paragraphs are the most important units of information, absorbable by the reader as a whole.
>>> Every utterance by a different person needs a new paragraph.
>>> Essentially, every turn of action should get a new paragraph, especially if it's a different character.

1. Don’t overwrite. It’s a general rule that you should leave as much to the reader’s imagination as you can, and this is doubly true for action scenes. The choreography of the fight may be exact in your head but you can’t force readers to see the same thing.
2. Increase the Pace. Intensifying the pace of your writing can communicate the immediacy and suddenness of conflict. Short, simple sentences keep the reader on their toes. Fights happen quickly and your description needs to match that. One way of speeding up the pace of your story is by shortening the sentences. Longer sentences tend to slow down the momentum of the action. Another tip is to avoid using long descriptions. Use descriptions only if they are related to the action, otherwise completely abandon them.
3. Perspective. It’s difficult to communicate excitement when you describe something objectively. Hovering around the fight describing the actions of both characters sets a limitation on how gripping the experience can be. The key is to thrust the reader into the thick of the action, and to do that they need to experience the fight through a character.
4.Verbs not adverbs. Fight scenes demand brevity and adverbs are the opposite. You want the punch of the sentence to come with the character’s action, not lagging after it.
5. Sensory information. Description doesn’t work in fight scenes because thought doesn’t play a big part in immediate, physical situations. What there is plenty of is sensory information. The taste of blood, the ringing in their ears, the ache of their injuries.
6. Detail is a dirty word. The key to getting a fight scene right is learning that detail is a dirty word. Television and movies have taught us that the choreography of a fight is the important thing but different mediums call for different tricks. Write around the physical actions, set the mood and write the sounds, smells, tastes and feel of combat, and your reader will tap into the visual heritage that was formally working against you to picture their own kick-ass fight scenes.

Jonathan handed her a European blade from his collection He liked the lighter blades to maximize his speeds.

Alexandra held the sheath and pulled the blade straight out. Her eyes scanned the gleaming titanium build, her hand wrapping around the basic dark-brass handle.

Jonathan remained motionless, his blade by his side with the tip pointing toward the ground.

Admiring the weapon, her smile rose with anticipation. She lowered the tip to the ground, matching Jonathan.

Jonathan rolled his eyes as Alexandra directed her smile to him, her eyes gleaming with fascination. "Stop being happy, will you?" he said, his tone hinting of some comedy.

Scanning him, she mimicked his solid stance with the palm of the hand gripping the blade and facing the ground.

"This is what we call the customary or field stance, not for combat, but ready for practice. Whenever there are two blades on the floor, you go to the guarding stance." Jonathan turned his wrist to point the sword up and moved it to his right. (no quotes here because he's still talking)

“This is not an active guard, but your weapon is passively ready to block an incoming attack. You watch for an unseen parry or slice or a rambunctious cut from a neighboring swordsman.”

Jonathan lowered the tip to where the weapon pointed directly at Alexandra. His left hand cupped around his right hand holding the blade steady. “When combat has been declared, you place your blade like so..."

Alexandra watched, her smile lowering as the realness of combat began to set in.

"Just as I instructed in your boxing, your blade should never move below your neck. In boxing, you can sometimes spare a punch, but you can't spare a cut or a possible stab."

Her blade now in fighting position, Alexandra tightened her grip. The smile replaced by anxiety.

Jonathan noted her readiness. He didn't expect experience in swordsmanship, but her talents had surprised him before. "What happens next is technically up to you. You should learn and master what comes naturally to you. Just remember, the best fighters are always master of a number of different techniques.”

Alexandra remained still and Jonathan admired her solid stance and attentiveness. "Okay?" he asked.

"Can we take this slowly?" Alexandra's voice leaked of nervousness.

He nodded his head wondering if she meant figuratively or literally. He took a solid step forward holding the blade next to his head. He watched Alexandra fight with herself not to step back. He held still, not moving.

She began to bob, as if syncing her body to a song that was running in her mind. It was a pattern of hers that he found unique, something he had never seen before, but grew to admire. Then she stepped forward to match his step into battle.

"We'll take this one step at a time." Jonathan led the dance, his voice caring with the thought that he proceeded with delicacy because of her persona---or possible fear of her reaction?

He sent the blade forward in a slow, straight stab. The lunge fully extended the blade directly toward her chest, slowing more the closer he got.

Alexandra gasped before taking action, turning her blade horizontally and slicing upward.

Jonathan read her wrists, knowing the parry would successfully waive the attack. Her power caught him off guard. As the blades met, Jonathan's was thrown upward. His arm moved with the blade to control its descent as Alexandra's blade continued its spin.

Jonathan retracted the blade down to the center of his body.

Alexandra stepped to her right to correct her stance. "So much for slow, right?" Alexandra smiled and took another step to the right.

Jonathan reacted accordingly, arcing his sword upward to stop her from moving. Alexandra shrieked as the blade unexpectedly came to her position and she wildly cut again, deflecting the arc.

Jonathan didn't pause and brought the blade down on top of her weapon.

Alexandra shrieked again, her voice echoing through the bunker as she twisted the blade to her right.

He recalled the weapon and took a step back, noting Alexandra's panic. But as he stepped back, Alexandra already composed, moved in to attack. She lunged forward and Jonathan arced his blade to his left. The arc was wider than her footing and she leaned into a fall.

Jonathan stepped away as Alexandra fell to the floor, the sword sliding out of her hand. "One step at a time?" He repeated before sheathing the blade on his back.

There are a lot of advantages to Third Person Omniscient, but if you look at fiction novels written in the 20th century, most are written in Third Person Limited. Why is that?
Part of the reason is that Third Person Omniscient is considered one of the hardest POVs to master because there are a lot of places where you can go wrong.
First, many new writers confuse Omniscient with "Head-Hopping". This often happens because a writer wants to show what many or all of the characters within a scene are thinking, and then simply writes it down as if it were Third Person Multiple instead of Omniscient POV. This'll come out as a jumbled and confusing pile of perspectives mixed together.
Head-hopping is a mistake that writers usually fall in to because they want to be able to show what each character within a scene is thinking. The Omniscient narrator can indeed do that. However, this should be done with the narrator's words, not the character's.
But it turns out that most fiction (particularly novels) written in the past century is written in Third Person Limited. Though Omniscient can do more with less, Limited is more common because Omniscient sacrifices what's perhaps the most important thing in fiction: It doesn't allow the reader to get close to and sympathize with the characters and the situations they find themselves in. This is because the distance created by seeing everything from the Omniscient narrator's point of view instead of the character's is too great.