Dylan wiped his blade on the orc's fur, his heart pounding not from effort, but from adrenaline and frustration. The lesson — always the lesson — even in the midst of carnage.
He had just felled an orc war chief in a matter of seconds, and the only thing Julius found to say was that he'd been too slow.
But how could he possibly be faster than that? Dylan felt his muscles burning; he could repeat those movements once, maybe twice, but a third attempt would leave him breathless and unable to move a single limb.
The thought was bitter. He had pushed his body to its absolute limit — a blur of motion that would have seemed supernatural to any observer. And yet, in his mentor's eyes, it was merely… inefficient. Wasteful.
A low chuckle broke through his thoughts. Julius stood a few paces away, not even looking at him, but at the terrified orcs hesitating at the edge of their macabre circle.
