Sasaki and Anayama were locked in brutal combat. Both of them were breathing heavily, their chests heaving up and down. They could not help but look at one another with a new level of respect, blinking their eyelids against the droplets of sweat that slithered from their foreheads.
They were both covered in a series of minor cuts, but not one of them had managed to land a more significant strike. Internally, Anayama praised Shingen's encirclement. If not for the soldiers that stabbed at his foe and distracted him, then he felt it might have been a very different battle.
Before they had even begun to charge, Jikouji knew at which point he would strike. The fighting had reached a fragile stalemate. There only needed to be a single brick removed and it would all come tumbling down.
