(The next day, Soron's Castle, Leo's POV)
Sweat rolled down Leo's forehead in tiny beads as he soaked up the pressure of Soron's aura without cracking, his breathing slow and controlled even as his lungs burned and his body screamed in protest.
'The hell is this pressure?'
He wondered, as the training arena around him began to feel smaller than it should have, not because of its size, but because of who stood across from him, as Leo became acutely aware of every sensation inside his own body, the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his calves, the faint tremor in his wrists as he subtly adjusted his grip.
*Gulp*
Soron stood opposite him, relaxed to the point of being infuriating.
His posture was loose, his shoulders at ease, while a single wooden dagger rested lightly in his hand as if it were an afterthought rather than a weapon, his expression calm, focused, and faintly amused, like a man watching a child struggle rather than facing a genuine opponent.
