Dravok came out onto the black ground the next day with both hands on the grip, and the whole feel of the place changed with it.
Trafalgar had fought the old man one-handed for longer than he could count. He'd learned every angle that came off that single arm, every lie the shoulder told, the exact width of the ground Dravok would give before he took it back.
All of that stopped being worth anything the moment the second hand closed on the hilt. The strikes came heavier and faster and from lines that had no business existing, and for the first exchange he was a beginner again, catching a blow across [Origin Guard] that drove him back three paces with his boots ploughing furrows through the dust.
