"Attack me."
Evan frowned.
For a moment, he thought he had misheard.
"You want me to strike?"
Lyra nodded calmly.
"Do not worry," Lyra said calmly."You will not break me."
Her tone was so casual that it almost sounded like she was talking about sparring with a child.
Evan hesitated.
The memory of the earlier duel flashed through his mind — the speed of her movements, the force behind her strikes, the cracked ground beneath their feet.
If she could fight like that against William Rhys…
What chance did he have?
Still, Lyra waited patiently.
She stood in a relaxed stance, her wooden sword held loosely at her side.
There was no tension in her posture.
No sign that she considered this a serious threat.
Evan inhaled slowly and stepped forward.
The wooden sword felt heavier than before.
He shifted his weight and swung toward her shoulder.
CLACK.
The wooden blades met for only a brief moment before Lyra redirected his strike effortlessly.
The motion was so small Evan almost missed it.
One gentle twist of her wrist and his attack slid harmlessly away.
Evan stared.
"That felt… easy."
Lyra smiled faintly.
"That is because you announced your attack."
Evan frowned.
"I didn't say anything."
Lyra stepped closer and lightly tapped his shoulder with the tip of her sword.
"You tensed."
Then she tapped his wrists.
"You tightened your grip."
Then his front foot.
"You shifted your weight forward."
Evan stared at her.
"You noticed all of that?"
Lyra chuckled softly.
"A swordsman who cannot read body language is already half defeated."
She stepped back again and raised her blade.
The relaxed posture returned instantly.
"Again."
Evan nodded and lifted his sword.
This time, he tried to stay relaxed.
Don't tense up.
Don't give it away.
He stepped forward and attacked.
CLACK.
Deflected.
The moment their blades met, Lyra redirected his strike with a simple twist of her wrist.
Evan barely had time to process what had happened before she had already reset her stance.
"Again."
Evan attacked.
CLACK.
Deflected.
A small flick of Lyra's wrist turned his strike aside.
Evan tightened his grip.
He attacked again.
CLACK.
Lyra's blade moved faster this time.
TAP.
Her wooden sword struck his wrist sharply.
Evan yelped as pain shot up his arm, and his weapon flew from his hand.
The wooden sword spun once in the air before landing on the ground with a dull thud.
For a moment, Evan just stared at his empty hand.
Lyra lowered her blade.
"Another mistake."
Evan rubbed his wrist.
The sting was already fading, but the embarrassment remained.
"What was it this time?"
Lyra pointed calmly toward the fallen sword.
"You forgot to defend yourself."
Evan sighed.
"I was focused on landing the attack."
"And that," Lyra said calmly, "is why inexperienced fighters lose quickly."
She walked over, picked up the wooden sword, and handed it back to him.
The gesture was casual, but her eyes remained sharp.
"A sword fight is a conversation."
Evan tilted his head.
"A conversation?"
Lyra nodded.
"Every attack asks a question."
Without warning, she moved.
CLACK.
Evan barely managed to raise his sword in time.
The impact rattled his arms.
"And every defense…"
CLACK.
Another strike followed immediately.
"…is the answer."
Evan stumbled backward.
Lyra stepped forward.
Her attacks began to flow together.
CLACK.
CLACK.
CLACK.
Each strike forced Evan another step back.
The wooden blades collided again and again.
Evan's arms trembled slightly from the repeated impacts.
He tried to focus.
Block.
Step.
Breathe.
But Lyra's rhythm never slowed.
Her movements were smooth and precise, each strike flowing naturally into the next.
It felt less like fighting a person and more like trying to stop a steady stream of falling water.
CLACK.
CLACK.
CLACK.
Evan's breathing grew heavier.
His shoulders began to burn.
Lyra suddenly stopped.
The silence that followed felt almost strange after the constant sound of clashing wood.
Evan exhaled sharply.
His chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath.
"That was intense…"
Lyra tilted her head slightly.
"That was slow."
Evan froze.
"Slow?"
Lyra nodded.
"I moved at a speed you could still follow."
Evan glanced across the training yard.
His eyes landed on the cracked ground left behind by the earlier duel.
Deep marks were carved into the dirt.
Several practice posts lay shattered nearby.
"So when you fought William…"
He hesitated.
"I slowed down so you could follow," Lyra said calmly."What you just saw was not even one-tenth of my true speed in this world."
She paused slightly before adding,
"And that is after the Heavenly Restriction."
Evan slowly turned back toward her.
For a moment, he simply stared.
"You're terrifying."
Lyra laughed softly.
The sound was light and genuine.
"I will take that as a compliment."
Evan sighed and rolled his shoulders.
His arms already felt sore.
A soft voice suddenly appeared inside his mind.
[Master's heart rate has increased.]
[Physical fatigue detected.]
[Recommendation: short rest period advised.]
Evan closed his eyes for a moment.
Of course, Echo noticed.
Even when he tried to ignore it, the quiet notifications continued to monitor his condition.
He sighed quietly.
Lyra was only just beginning.
His arms trembled slightly as he raised his sword again.
The wooden blade felt heavier than before.
Lyra noticed immediately.
But instead of stopping, she nodded once.
"Good."
Evan looked at her in disbelief.
"Good?"
Lyra stepped forward again.
"You are tired."
She pointed the tip of her sword toward him.
"That is when real training begins."
Evan frowned slightly.
"That sounds unfair."
Lyra smiled faintly.
"A fight rarely waits for you to be comfortable."
Evan adjusted his grip.
His muscles protested, but he forced himself to hold the stance steady.
Lyra studied him silently.
Then she nodded once.
"You survived the first ten seconds."
Evan lowered his sword slightly as he tried to steady his breathing.
Ten seconds.
That was all it had been.
It had felt much longer.
His arms were already aching from the repeated impacts, and the muscles in his shoulders trembled slightly every time he tightened his grip on the wooden blade.
Across from him, Lyra looked completely untouched.
Her breathing was calm.
Her posture relaxed.
There was no sign of fatigue in her expression.
Evan suddenly understood something important.
During the entire exchange, Lyra had not once taken a step backward.
Not even a single one.
Every movement she had made had been controlled.
Measured.
Deliberate.
It felt as though he had been struggling against an invisible wall the entire time.
Evan adjusted his stance again.
This time, his posture was more careful.
More aware.
He raised the wooden sword slowly.
"Alright," he muttered under his breath.
"Let's try this again."
Lyra's faint smile returned as she watched him prepare.
The next lesson was about to begin.
"Let us begin the real training."