“Someone’s eager,” Jin observed.
Kira didn’t move, taking the time to study him.
To make it this far, she was betting he wouldn’t be an easy opponent. Particularly given the difficulty level contained in breaching the circle’s barrier.
“Be careful. He looks like a scrapper,” Jin said.
The wanderer reached over his shoulder to clasp the hilt of the broad sword he wore on his back.
Kira’s face soured as he withdrew a blade that resembled a claymore sword that was longer than her arm and thicker too. Edged on two sides, it was meant to be wielded with two hands and featured a heavy build.
Parrying it would be hell.
Still, all wasn’t lost. That heaviness and size would sap its owner’s strength far faster than her lighter blade while also making him slower.
Kira could work with that.
She drew her blade, holding it loosely at her side.
The wanderer’s gaze dropped to her sword. “You’re not going to take your stance?” His hand tightened around the hilt of the claymore. “Are you looking down on me?”
At her silence, there was a shift in him—almost as if her lack of response was seen as an insult.
“I see. Then allow me to make the first move.”
The wanderer closed the distance, appearing before her in an instant.
He was fast. Much faster than he should have been capable of with a sword of that size and weight.
Kira evaded by a thin margin, the wind of the claymore’s passage ruffling her hair.
Close. Way closer than she’d planned.
Kira recovered her balance, watching the other with a newfound respect.
He was talented. Very talented.
How did someone like him end up as a wanderer?
Already he was shifting his weight, preparing for a sideways slice.
Kira faded out of reach, surprised when he moved with her. He was relentless as he pursued her across the floor. His movements containing a faint air of familiarity the longer they fought.
Kira’s foot touched the edge of the platform. Victory showed in his face as he sliced his sword downward.
The screech of metal reverberated throughout the arena.
Kira blocked, her teeth gritting as her arms shook from the effort.
The man hit like a tank.
Kira’s arms threatened to buckle as she sank all her strength into one upward heave, sidestepping as she let her guard fall.
His blade whispered past her body, slamming into the floor and cracking the platform.
Kira would have attacked, but in the instant that she shifted to do so he had already recovered.
“You’re good,” Kira told him.
