With no resistance, he settled into a state of higher efficiency. He operated according to a speed that he did not set. He felt it with his body, that balanced speed that he could handle for hours upon hours at a time. The zone of perfect struggle that would allow him to be resilient for years.
He turned the blade aside as it came at him, his movements just slightly sharper than before, and then he buried his sword in his attacker's gut.
The man looked down in surprise. Beam's weapon tore to the left, causing the man's organs to spill out. The man grasped at them in a panic, and tried to put them back in. But his life was already over, and his struggle showed no reward.
A dozen men Beam had faced off against, now that number was cut down by one.
