'...A late-stage Grandmaster?'
Gray watched calmly as the massive blue flood dragon rushed down toward him, its body twisting through the sky with heavy pressure, making the arena shake as if a storm had dropped straight into the grounds.
Dust rose around the edges of the ring, people held their breath, and Lyra's fingers tightened around the railing so much that her knuckles went white.
'He should be able to take the second move… right?'
He thought that to himself while lowering his body slowly, bending his knees, letting his center of gravity drop in a smooth, stable way.
His right hand slid behind his waist as he grabbed the handle of his rapier in an unusual reversed grip with the blade pointing behind him.
His breathing slowly relaxed to the point where he was holding it.
"Shadowless Sword Art..."
Fwoop!
The moment he whispered those words, the light around him bent a little, as if his figure began to blur between one breath and the next.
