The Duke laughed, a low, genuine laugh.
"Good… very good."
He no longer retreated. Instead, he planted his feet on the ground and spun the dagger in a complete circular motion. A wave of his own intent exploded from the blade. Thin and silver, like a crescent of cutting light that expanded in all directions.
The dagger technique manifested.
Two blades of pure energy shot out from the Duke's dagger, flying toward Kyrian's swords.
The four blades collided in midair.
A sharp sound, like metal being torn in slow motion, echoed across the field.
Kyrian's intent swords were pushed back, but they did not dissipate. With a mental gesture, he made them return, spinning around his body.
The Duke narrowed his eyes.
Kyrian said nothing. He simply stepped forward, maintaining a safe distance. The flying swords shot out again, this time in crossing patterns, one coming from above on the right, the other from below on the left, trying to trap the Duke in a blind angle.
