Cissel didn't offer a dramatic speech or a display of bravado. She simply reached into her storage device and took out her two daggers.
She gave a single, curt nod. She didn't say a word, didn't try to buy any extra moment for psychological warfare, looking as if she had a suicidal wish to stand in the path of a siege war weapon with nothing but short blades.
"Start!"
The teacher gave the signal, and the opposing student instantly activated his cannon. It wasn't the type of cannons John and his friends had used back at the pocket trial; it was a rapid-fire model, essentially a heavy machine gun with a significantly larger, reinforced barrel.
The barrage of attacks came like a relentless rain of deadly bullets hitting the exact spot Cissel had occupied. A cloud of dust and pulverised stage stone erupted, masking the vision of everyone in the audience.
