Both trainees raised their weapons, staring at each other cautiously. Several seconds passed, and neither moved.
"The hell are you waiting for? A written invitation? Move!" Garrick barked.
Instantly, the opponent kicked off the floor, driving his blade forward in a sharp thrust.
Fiona met it with a clean parry, guiding the strike to the side. The boy's eyes widened as his balance gave out and he pitched forward, leaving his back exposed.
"Shit!"
However, Fiona didn't move. She simply held her sword before her, making no attempt to follow through.
Garrick stared at the scene in utter disbelief.
"You… did you come here to embarrass your ancestors? Why the hell didn't you finish him?"
Fiona flinched, her head lowering.
"I-I… I…"
"Don't stutter at me. Fight him, and finish it!"
"Y-yes…"
But nothing changed.
Her form was refined, and it was obvious she was the better fighter. Yet all she did was evade and parry, never once taking the initiative.
