You asked for-!
Another flurry of strikes came my way—fast, brutal, surgical. But more than that, they were beautiful.
Each move flowed into the next, a lethal dance that made every twitch of my body scream to move faster or die.
Damn it! His swordsmanship is completely different now! It's not brute rage—it's refined. Clinical. Deadly.
Even in my buffed state—my reaction time cranked to the limits, my mind running faster than humanly possible—I was only surviving by hair's breadths.
Block? No time.
Counter? Not with that thing.
Engage? I might as well stab myself.
I twisted, ducked, rolled, and blinked again, staying just far enough out of reach that the blade only brushed my clothes—but not far enough that I could regroup. Heck I had to always watch my surroundings - afraid our rematch would harm the others and need a suitable space for my plan to work out.
And time—
[0:24]
Was running out. And I didn't even have the plan yet.
Think. THINK!
