They circled again. The ground around them was torn up from all their movements, lines of dirt kicked up and scattered like someone had dragged a storm through the clearing. Chan-woo's breathing grew heavy but steady. Wooyun's eyes stayed sharp, almost amused, like he'd been waiting for Chan-woo to reach this point.
They clashed once more. This time it dragged on longer. Their weapons crossed over and over, each blow answered with one just as fierce. Chan-woo's swordwork was crisp, almost textbook, while Wooyun fought like he was trying to drag him into chaos. Spear strikes that came from odd angles, footwork that didn't follow any pattern, force that felt a bit too wild.
Chan-woo shoved him back and tried to press forward again, but Wooyun twisted his spear overhead and blocked him cleanly. They locked weapons for several seconds, muscles straining, eyes fixed on each other. Wooyun pushed, and Chan-woo pushed back even harder, teeth gritting.
