The difference in stamina between the two fighters is beginning to show. Etienne, a knight who had marched through battlefields and shed blood in more wars than most could count, had perfect endurance for a long battle. Her breathing remained steady, even when some of the knights were already seeing something in her stance.
"She's starting to break," Gallahad muttered, his sharp eyes narrowing as he watched the exchange.
Sienna-Rose had already seen it, the faint quiver in Etienne's dominant hand, a sign she's being worn down. Ivan's strikes, though clumsy to an untrained eye, carried a heavy blow.
Again and again he repeated the same pattern, but each time he changed the form, altering the angle, the speed, and the weight behind his sword. It was a crude method, but brutally effective.
