The training courtyard looked like a war zone.
Deep trenches gouged the packed earth. The thick morning mist had long since evaporated, burned away by the sheer, explosive friction of their clashing mana.
CLANG!
Arthur was thrown backward again. His boots carved twin grooves into the dirt. He hit the ground hard, rolling over his shoulder just in time to avoid the razor-sharp arc of Samantha's katana.
The blade sheared cleanly through the stone pillar he had just been standing in front of.
"You're reacting, not anticipating!" Samantha barked.
She didn't even sound winded. Her skin-tight black combat suit was slick with a light sheen of sweat, her chest heaving slightly, but her blood-red eyes were as sharp and predatory as ever.
"The Blood Lotus Art isn't just speed. It's rhythm. If you can't read the tempo, you die."
Arthur spat a streak of blood into the dirt.
