Escape (4)

"You're weak. You don't stand a chance against me."

I grabbed my blade.

I could feel the estoc as an extension of my own body. The weight, the balance, the way it moved with me—all of it felt natural and right.

The thrill of the fight, the dance of blades, was intoxicating.

This was where I belonged.

With renewed vigor, I parried his next strike, the estoc moving with precision and grace. I countered with a quick thrust, aiming for his heart. He deflected it, but I was already moving, my blade slicing through the air in a series of swift strikes.

CLANG! CLANK!

Our weapons clashed again and again, the forest echoing with the sound of our duel.