There was no warning, no flourish.
He stepped forward and swung.
Lucian barely reacted in time.
Steel collided with steel in a sharp metallic crack that echoed down the alley.
The impact drove him backward two full steps. His arms absorbed the vibration, but the force was undeniable.
"So strong," Lucian thought, adjusting his footing.
Zion twisted his wrists and followed through with a second swing aimed at his forearm.
Lucian pivoted, but the edge still grazed beneath his elbow. A thin line of red appeared instantly.
A clean cut.
The crowd at the alley entrance gasped softly.
By ordinary standards, the duel could have ended there.
But the quest demanded more.
Lucian's pride would not allow immediate concession.
He shifted into offense.
His blade swept horizontally, precise and fast, targeting Zion's ribs. He stepped back at the perfect angle, the tip of his sword slicing only air.
Before Lucian's blade completed its arc, Zion lunged.
