Spar Day VIII
Suddenly, Culian saw his chance. With a well-timed sidestep, he dodged a particularly vicious jab, the wind whistling past his ear. Seizing the opportunity, he didn't retreat further back. Instead, he surprised everyone by making a sharp turn, his nimble feet carrying him along the edge of the circular arena, running parallel to Marco's attacks.
Marco, frustrated by Culian's evasive tactics, roared in defiance. "Come on, fight back!" he bellowed, pounding his gloved fists together. His frustration was evident—the quick and decisive victory he'd envisioned was quickly slipping away.
Culian, panting heavily from his frantic running, finally stopped and planted his feet firmly. Sweat streamed down his face as he closed his eyes, focusing every ounce of his remaining mana.
"Heh, this is interesting," Marco chuckled, mistaking Culian's pause for surrender. He charged forward, eager to end the match.