The sound of steel cutting through the air ripped through the training field behind the Ainsworth mansion.
Clang.
Clang.
CLANG.
The swords clashed with enough violence to make the ground vibrate beneath their feet. Kael advanced without hesitation, his body flowing between attack and defense with a precision bordering on instinct. Each movement was clean, efficient—beautiful even.
Adalric took a half-step back, twisting his fist and dodging by a hair's breadth. The impact sent sparks flying as the blades met again.
"Hah!" he laughed, turning his body out of reach. "You've evolved. There's no denying that."
Kael didn't answer.
He was already moving again.
His left foot slid, his hip rotated, and the sword came from below in an arc too fast for most swordsmen to follow. Adalric blocked at the last second, feeling the force reverberate to his shoulder.
"But…" Adalric continued, forcing Kael's blade aside and spinning his own, "...your form has changed too much."
