Brightmoon Sword-Art, Blood Drop Sword-Intent

The young man continued to spin his wooden drill across that piece of wood, leaving behind one hole after another as bits of wooden detritus went flying abaout.

Ji Ning held his fish bucket in one hand and his fishing pole in the other. His gaze was focused on that spinning wooden drill, and he stared at it as though time itself had stood still for him.

"Eh?" The young man glanced at Ning in puzzlement. Was this simple tool of his really that interesting? Still, he didn't say anything.

"The faster you rush, the slower you go?" As Ning stared at that wooden drill, a look of reflection was in his gaze. "Perhaps I should try something else."

Sword-light began to shimmer within Ning's eyes.