The red-haired C-rank didn't hesitate when he saw an opening at the side of the broad-shouldered boy.
He whipped his sword around him in a vicious arc, its flat side slamming into the boy's temple with a hollow crack.
The broad-shouldered boy dropped like a wet sack of stones.
The two C-ranks moved as one, the red-haired yelling a wordless roar. Their silver swords carved glinting arcs in the sunlight as they converged on Leon at both sides, aiming to scissor his head from his shoulders.
Leon didn't flinch; he stood there, his eyes flicking from one blade to the other.
The broad-shouldered boy, who seemed to be semi-conscious on the ground, slapped a bloody palm over his face.
The audience in the distant stands leaned forward as one, their breaths held in their lungs.
At the last microsecond, when everyone watching closed their eyes, Leon dropped into a crouch. The blade from his left sliced through the air where his neck had been.
