Conclave of Sword Masters
As the first clash echoed through the valley, the ground seemed to tremble under their might.
Anthony and Kush stood at a mere breath's distance from each other, their swords raised high, the sharp edges glinting like twin stars in the dimming twilight.
The air around them crackled with anticipation, the tension so thick it felt as though the atmosphere itself held its breath.
With a sudden, fluid motion, Kush struck.
His sword slashed through the air with the force of a storm, aimed straight for Anthony's heart.
Yet, in the blink of an eye, Anthony met the blow, his katana dancing to life with the precision of a master, parrying the strike with a single fluid motion.
The sound of their blades meeting rang out like the tolling of a bell, sharp and final, before their swords were drawn apart.
Kush's eyes flashed with a predatory gleam as he pivoted, unleashing a series of rapid strikes that blurred the air.