Tycondrius' sword swings would be deflected by the young Athena Vanzano. After such, she would counterattack, aiming at a vulnerable point. When not deflected, the young lady would also dodge, weaving her body acrobatically, keeping her balance well. After such, she would... counterattack.
It was quite skillful. Tycon was only able to trivialize the fight because of his superior vision, his rank, and that he was very, very skilled at swordplay. In fact, he'd have forgotten that the young lady was Unranked, if not for the fact that her attacks and movement lacked mana acceleration.
"Very good, Miss Athena," Tycon smirked, flourishing his wooden practice sword. "You've exemplified the basics of the Tyrion rapier."
The young lady pursed her lips and allowed her practice rapier to rest, pointed low, "Why doesn't that sound like praise, Sir Tycon?"
A deep frown etched into Tycon's face, "It was meant to be praise."
