Strax sat on one of the highest branches of a tree, his back resting against the trunk and one leg swinging in the air. From there, he could see the entire clearing below, including the numerous sword marks scattered across the ground. Some trees had been cut so perfectly that their upper halves were still resting on their trunks, while large blocks of stone had been split into two or three pieces.
At the center of all that destruction, Samira continued training.
She held her new sword in one hand, performing slow, controlled movements. The blade was much smaller than the enormous weapon she usually carried, but Samira seemed increasingly comfortable with it. Her steps were precise, her shoulders remained relaxed, and each cut ended exactly where it should. Every now and then, she stopped, corrected the position of her feet, and started again, completely focused.
Strax had been watching her for almost half an hour.
