"Hahaha," the masked man laughed at Lyon. Like a fish know how to swim, he knew he was no match the moment his eyes couldn't follow his movement. However, weak he might be, a fool he was not.
Lyon furrowed his eyebrows, but he didn't have a moment to spare. He had only one sword in his hand, and it already embedded the masked man's gut, so cutting them both at the same time would be difficult considering his opponent's level.
Lyon immediately let go of the sword before he made a horse stance. (If I can't cut it both in time, then-). His eyes looked at the biceps of his opponent before launching a heavy finger-point thrust on both of them.
"Now," said the masked man. Everything will be decided in this very second, and he chose not to give it up that easily.
"Aargh!" the masked man screamed in agony as his biceps were thorned, not even the specialized clothing of his organization could reduce the force Lyon was throwing. Despite so, he was still standing on his two feet.
