Kyle adjusted his grip on the wooden tachi, fingers curling tighter around the hilt. He took a deep breath. Steadying his nerves.
Across from him. Anastasia stood with her practice sword resting lightly on her shoulder. Her posture relaxed, almost lazy.
She looked like she didn't have a care in the world. No tension in her arms. No stance. Just calm confidence.
The difference between them was almost ridiculous.
Kyle looked like a coiled spring, every muscle tensed and ready to move.
Anastasia looked like she'd wandered into a sparring match by accident and hadn't decided if she wanted to participate.
She tilted her head slightly, her crimson eyes half-lidded. "Whenever you're ready."
Kyle didn't wait.
He launched forward in an instant. His feet gliding over the ground with trained precision.
No mana, just raw speed and skill. His wooden tachi sliced through the air in a clean horizontal arc aimed for her neck.
