He was breathing heavily. Both had yet to take a break after three hours of effort. Even though it wasn't intense nor fast-paced, the consistency in focus led to a growing fatigue.
"Are you sure you don't want to slow down my king? Anytime soon would be the correct moment." Fedlimid said, wiping a few droplets of sweat off his forehead.
"I don't have time to waste." Seeing the barbarian's reluctance to continue, the panting recruit taunted him instead of scolding his underling. "And I thought I'd be the one to concede defeat first."
Fedlimid's serious glare came back for a second, but it smoothened the next instant because the man couldn't afford to lose his job so soon. His next slash was heavy, well-placed, and too fast for Arthur to react in time. It was a vertical slash, similar to the impending doom of an executioner and its violence shook Arthur's arms.
