For the first time since his return from Tenebris, Lucian felt pushed past his limits.
His breathing was slightly irregular. His lungs burned and his muscles ached from the strain of keeping up with Xander's inhumanly first attacks.
At some point, he was convinced the elusive novice was able to predict his moves before he even made them.
So seamlessly that every move felt like a trap. His hands and body moved to block any effort that they made to coordinate their attacks, fluidly throwing them into disarray. His body effortlessly phased through their attacks and despite their best efforts they'd failed to land even a single blow, something that irked him to no end.
"Calm yourself, Lucian. There's still time."
If he rushed, then it was only going to work against him. He'd have fallen right into a trap and from then on, he'd be dancing in Xander's palm.
Xander was a certified monster among monsters.
Every move of his seamlessly flowed into the other.
