When Raze fought, he wasn't just swinging his sword blindly or unleashing his techniques in desperation, hoping something would get through. Every move he made was deliberate. Every strike, every step, every breath was calculated.
Through the endless clash, he had been quietly studying Ibarin's patterns, watching the movements of the colossal vortex of wind, watching how the swirling currents repaired themselves when they were broken. He had measured the density of the winds, feeling how much resistance his sword met each time it cut through.
Using his system and experience, Raze had worked out exactly how much Dark Magic and Qi it would take to shatter the currents before they could reform. If he struck too softly, the wind would stitch itself back together. If he wasted too much, he would be drained before he even reached the core.
