"Stand still and fight!" she snarled, launching into a combination of strikes that showcased her mastery of the claymore's devastating potential.
Overhead cuts flowed into diagonal slashes, horizontal sweeps became rising strikes, each attack designed to limit her opponent's options and force him into a defensive position where her superior reach and power would dominate.
Every strike missed by the narrowest possible margin.
Yomi moved through her assault like a man walking through falling leaves, his steps carrying him away from danger with such precise timing that her blade seemed to cut only shadows. His hands remained at his sides, his expression calm, as though he were taking a casual stroll rather than avoiding lethal attacks.
