Ryu's battle intent blazed through the skies, his great swordstaff swinging again and again.
Every one of his strikes seemed to carry a myriad of changing forms, and yet each one was just as simple and direct.
It was hard for Falling Snow to pick up on whether he was fighting a swordsman or a spearman, a saberman or a halberd smith. And unlike the past, it was like these constantly changing forms were all casually and smoothly flowing into one another, beautifully incorporated in an array of magical Fate and tides of qi that mesmerized the eyes.
In the beginning, Falling Snow managed to regain some of his footing and even seemed capable of countering Ryu to some extent.
But after just three exchanges, it was like Ryu had imprinted his battle style into his mind and knew what was coming before it came.
Ryu's great swordstaff suddenly became heavy.
