The training grounds within the colleseum buzzed with motion, magic, and muscle. Mixes of mana drifted on the air. Spells cracked and shimmered with raw force, each fighter causing the ambient mana to shift around with every swing, block, and burst of energy.
Kai leaned against a cold stone pillar, arms folded, watching the chaos with practiced calm.
Redford was impossible to miss.
He danced between strikes like a man born for the blade, his twin swords in constant motion. Their steel flashed in the morning sun, blurring as they whirled through air like silver fireflies. Every blow from Redford came in rapid succession, too quick for the eye to track. His opponent, a mountain of a man called Durg, braced behind a tower shield half his size, met the assault like a wall of iron and grit.
Each time Redford's blades connected, sparks flared, but the shield held. His strength held.
Speed versus strength.
'Durg is probably easy to deal with.'
Clang. Clang. Clang.
