Dylan's breath came ragged, chest rising and falling hard as he stared at the man in front of him. The man's blonde hair hung in his face, sweat dripping from the ends, but his blue eyes stayed dead, empty.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, spat blood, and pushed himself to his feet again.
The dagger shook in his grip. He shifted it, trying to steady his hand. He lunged forward, a quick stab at the man's ribs, but the man dodged it faster than his eyes.
He tried again, a slash at the arm, then another at the throat. Missed again. Each swing was slower than the last as his stamina was depleted. His legs trembled and his breath burned his lungs.
"Is this your limit? Just like that?" he asked, his eyes as cold as before.
"No! Not this time!"
Dylan snarled and feinted left, then came in hard from the right, dagger aimed for the face. The man blocked with a single step, caught Dylan's wrist midair, and twisted. A sharp crack echoed through the room.
