Now a lower jab while I smack his saber into the air, my opent got a hold of my foot with a frown carved onto his facial features. His whole body trembled in rage; thinking quickly I jumped towards him, catching him off guard with the extra weight in his palm. He stumbled backwards a bit and got a hold of his sword again, narrowing my eyes one thought crossed my mind.
"Why don't you use your spirit sense?" this thought has been bothering me since the beginning of this match. Every step I take is one step closer to proving my worth to an extent. I know I wouldn't be able to win this contest but at least I won't go down without a fight.
Serval sword slashes came my way forcing me to rotate my spear to block the incoming attack, the cultivator disappeared as soon as I started to go on my defence. Twisting my body a bit I kicked out behind me where the cultivator showed up "how predictable" I uttered under my breath.