Pushing toward Vincent in a synchronized manner to match the beating of my heart, I dipped to the left without losing a bit of momentum. The moment I foresaw a kick with the intent to knock me on my ass. The blur of a boot zoomed past my temple, missing me by a few centimeters.
I took the opportunity to strike not towards his neck or the clearly defenseless heart but rather the foot, specifically the Achilles tendon.
Not breaking eye contact with Vincent, who seemed taken back, my sword instantly stopped the moment it was about to reach its mark, tilting to my right as Vincent's wrist flickered with a noble bearing tearing through the still air towards my neck, but my blade was already in place to parry.
