Soren felt the jolt in his arm but ignored it. He popped back up in time to see Seren slam the flat of her blade into Aria's knee, an ugly, effective move. The resulting yelp drew attention from the twins, who, having been written off as chaff, were now driving the Blue rear guard into the far wall.
Instructors looked on from the ruined apse, nobody interfered.
Soren let the next thirty seconds happen at half-speed in his brain. Blue company was splintered, Cassian and Aria together but exposed, and the rest scattered, lured out of position by the basic wish to win quickly.
Soren's forearm ached from the lock, but he could move it. More importantly, Cassian had expected Soren to fold.
He circled left, keeping low, and watched for the moment Cassian would shift back to offense. It came as a flash: Cassian's chin up, eyes slicing the mist, blade set in a stance that telegraphed 'gambit' to anyone watching in the right light.
