His eyes gleamed with that familiar mischief, lips curling in a lazy smile. "You mean both of them." His voice carried a teasing edge, but his gaze was sharp. Where others strained to follow the blows, he seemed to see beyond them, as though the duel were unfolding in slow motion before him.
Below, Minjun began to move in a wide circle. His bare feet were silent on the cracked stone, his balance perfect, his body flowing with the rhythm of something older than battle. He lifted his chin slightly, and his voice rose once more.
The monk adjusted his stance, one hand extended forward, the other drawn back near his chest. His breath slowed, his aura sharpening until it felt like a blade of lightning drawn taut.
The two forces pressed against each other without striking. The crowd felt the weight of both domains.
Then Minjun struck.
