Rumi swings and knocks away the flying knife.
I am right behind it swinging my sword when I am within reach.
His face looks calm and concentrated but inside he is burning with adrenaline.
'How'? he asks himself as he deflects the short sword with the knife.
'I was just supposed to knock him out and ask him questions about that place'.
'Where in Lums name did this little bastard come from' he asks himself as he gets pushed back.
'Not even the direct disciples fight like this.. it isn't that he is skillful.. he is vicious'.
Every strike is directed at a vital organ, I didn't give him a chance to breath.
My strikes are coming faster and harder with each swing.
The difference in weapon length makes our reach about even.
Rumi can't believe he is being kept on the back foot by a malnourished runt.
Contrary to his perception of me, mana has been flowing through my veins since before I was born.
I might need more nutrition but I already have the strength of a grown man.
