The scene began in the side training field of Wykes Manor, where the hard-packed earth floor was already marked by dozens of furrows and impact marks. The cold wind passed between the banners, making the fabric crackle softly, while two figures moved in the center of the open space.
Damon and Lily.
Both held spears.
Damon maintained a solid posture, feet apart, knees slightly bent, his body aligned as Esther had taught him countless times. His movements were restrained, calculated, each advance accompanied by a ready retreat, each strike thought out to maintain control of distance.
Lily, on the other hand, seemed… different.
She moved with too much lightness for someone who, weeks ago, barely knew how to hold a weapon. Her body flowed with the spear, as if the weapon's shaft were merely a natural extension of her arms. Her steps didn't follow a rigid pattern—they were almost intuitive, adaptive, changing as Damon reacted.
The spears clashed.
Metal against metal.
