"Here he comes!"
A wide-open training ground, with stacked wooden crates mimicking terrain of varying heights, and potted saplings obstructing the view.
Eula stood in the center clearing, holding a wooden Claymore and a wooden Sword.
She tossed the Sword to Ryan.
"The surroundings are your battlefield!"
"If you find it too difficult, I can have them cleared!"
Ryan looked at the several torches stuck into the wooden crates and the carefully arranged training ground.
His Battle Intent soared!
What was the point of training on flat ground? Such complex terrain was a true simulation of real combat.
"Can I damage the saplings and wooden crates?"
Eula's gaze was clear and cold: "Guerrilla tactics make good use of the terrain!"
"Changing the environment is also not impossible!"
"As long as your wooden Sword can cut through them!"
Eula raised her wooden Claymore, and her Aura became sharp and murderous.
"Training time is two hours. I hope you won't be completely red!"
Ryan stood with his Sword ready.
The blade of the wooden Sword was blunt, coated with a red pigment that would stain the body and clothes upon impact, making it quite vivid.
Eula's Claymore blade was clearly also covered in this viscous, sticky pigment.
Her Vision shimmered with the glow of ice and snow, but in a guided combat session, the power of elements was naturally not used.
The Sky gradually became enveloped in darkness. It was predictable that as time went on, the combat would become more difficult, testing one's eyesight, spirit, and the accuracy of their Sword…
"Let's set a small goal! Give Eula some color!"
Ryan's body bent like a leopard, his breathing creating a current of wind.
His muscles twitched, and his bones crackled, as his dinner was digested into Qi and blood.
His eyes slightly closed, fine dust danced in his Vision.
In his ears was Eula's command to attack.
"Are you letting me make the first Move?" Ryan's Sword lightly scraped the ground.
Suddenly,
He exploded with power, his body lunging forward.
The ten-meter distance between them was completely negligible.
"Clang!" The Sword and Claymore clashed.
All the force in his body was concentrated into the blade. This Sword, made of some unknown wood, had greater toughness than Ryan had imagined.
"An excellent strike!" Eula commented, swinging her Claymore.
It was like a surge of fierce wind, swift as lightning, striking towards Ryan's shoulder.
Ryan retreated and blocked.
The blade pressed down,
A crimson mark appeared on his shoulder.
His eyes darkened. Vision wielders, through subtle influence, have their bodies enhanced by elemental power, and combined with regular training, they can easily possess extremely strong physical qualities.
Eula's Talents were top-tier in Mondstadt.
Her diligent efforts surpassed ninety-nine percent of ordinary people.
Ryan's slight arrogance from his Transmigration until now was shattered by this single strike.
This was truly someone who could leave a profound mark in the Teyvat storyline.
Thoughts flashed like lightning, and he adjusted his mindset.
He lifted his Sword upwards, deflecting the incredibly heavy and powerful wooden Claymore.
He swung his blade faster, his Sword feeling as light as a feather.
Ryan had already gained some insight into the swift characteristics of Favonius Bladework.
Eula's eyebrows raised slightly. She remembered this was Ryan's second day of learning Favonius Bladework!
"Very strong Talents!"
The angle of movement of the Claymore in Eula's hand was very small, easily blocking Ryan's second horizontal slash.
Furthermore, she pushed the blade forward, aiming to strike Ryan's body and directly leave a large red mark.
Ryan parried with his Sword and retreated.
This was his first time dueling with a Claymore!
Before, only the Sword Instructor had sparred with him for a while.
He stepped back, retreated, then advanced.
Attack is defense!
Only by continuously attacking could he defend against the descent of Eula's Claymore.
Ryan's blood grew hot, controlling the rhythm of his breathing, gradually eliminating the momentary breath-holding when struck by his opponent.
The surrounding wind was a turbulence of Swords.
He felt it with his heart, and stirred it with his Sword.
Relying on the agility of his Sword, he struck, and struck again, seizing the gaps in the Claymore's swings.
Wind penetrates everywhere!
In the collision of winds, there was only the victory of the Anemo pressing down on the East Wind, or the East Wind pressing down on the Anemo.
Eula no longer spoke or commented, her footsteps graceful, like strolling in a leisurely garden.
But Ryan's aggressive attacking posture, after all, put a little pressure on her.
Block, counterattack.
Leaving red marks on Ryan's body.
This was instruction, so Ryan could make mistakes, could be reckless.
Errors in footwork, confusion in rhythm, would be compensated for and changed after each hit.
It was a thoroughly enjoyable battle, ignoring the pain of being struck by the wooden Sword.
Ryan's Sword became faster, his footwork more fluid and varied.
Yet, Eula's Claymore always managed to match the speed of his Sword, blocking all his strikes.
She even exploited his openings to land fatal blows.
More and more red marks appeared on Ryan's body, while Eula remained spotless.
But Eula noticed that after striking the same spot once, twice, three times, she could no longer leave the color of her blade in that same position.
Ryan was starting to see through her Sword path.
With an appreciative expression, Eula, who had not moved her feet much, instantly disappeared from Ryan's sight after deflecting his blade with a single strike.
"So fast!" Ryan's eyes narrowed.
Her body was like a phantom, retreating behind the cover of wooden crates and saplings.
A moment of respite appeared on him, but the killing intent around him grew even stronger.
The stars in the Sky were obscured by clouds.
The bright yellow flames of the torches flickered in the night.
The shadows of objects intertwined and twisted, wind blew the candles, wind blew the leaves, all things were dim and bright.
Although not in intense combat, Ryan's mental consumption was greater than during battle.
He paid attention to his surroundings, to the gaps in the wooden crates.
It was as if Eula's sudden Sword light could appear anywhere.
Intersecting red marks covered his clothes, the Sword wounds were superficial, not reaching the bone, but the blue and purple swelling became more prominent.
Ryan began to jump onto the wooden crates, moving to higher ground.
Eula, however, leaped from the ground to the highest point, swinging her Sword down.
The immense force pushed Ryan back.
As the night grew darker, the torches extinguished.
The furious, storm-like attacks made the clash of wooden Swords a fierce symphony.
In the darkness, his Vision was lost, but his ears became more sensitive. Ryan began to hear footsteps and the sound of blades in the wind.
The chaotic sounds seemed to be separating.
Time passed, Ryan's breathing was ragged, and for the first time, he felt the soreness and fatigue in his arms.
But bursts of strength emerging from within his body kept him going.
The clouds dispersed from beneath the stars and moon.
Pale silver moonlight flowed like water.
Eula's cold eyes remained fixed on Ryan's figure.
Her Claymore, swung in a full circle, flashed with an arc of sharpness.
Her long legs were not fighting, but dancing.
Graceful, grand, elegant, noble!
Distant, perfect, unattainable!
Eula's Swordplay was the Claymore technique within Favonius Bladework; most of her Move's swings differed from the Sword.
The Claymore's killing Move consisted of four parts: two diagonal slashes in different directions, one horizontal sweep, and one downward chop, all delivered with immense power and weight.
However, Eula's Favonius Bladework carried a strong personal style; it had evolved further from the Claymore technique, becoming faster, swifter, and possessing a five-part killing Move.
The Lawrence Family's unique dance steps, "Flickering Candlelight," were the ritualistic dance of the old aristocrats, with the third act's solo dance being the most crucial.
The ineffable beauty of rhythm and cadence, along with the artistic quality of the dance, now flowed through Eula's Sword technique.
The Claymore's blade lifted high, and the rotating moonlit dance steps brought the long Sword soaring.
Ryan was momentarily stunned!
The blade had already reached his throat.
"Two hours are up! The instruction has ended!"