His grip shifted, blades angled inward, his stance lowering instantly, so that he was almost sitting with how far his legs stood apart, and his hips dropped. The stance was hard to hold, and he might have been powered by the archive, but his body had not fully recovered from the wound and the energy it took to heal it. Sweat ran down his temple, cutting through the dust already clinging to his skin.
Then he moved. And the sweat that had gathered on his brows flew around him like raindrops, which quickly disappeared into the thirsty sand. The sixth dance was mastered by even fewer, and he doubted even some of the examiners sitting on the high school panel knew it. After all, they only needed to judge three. Perhaps examiners in the college examiners' council could have an idea on this one. Even college students were not tested on it.
