Clang!
In the moment their eyes met, Weyges drew his sword.
The half-blade in his hand was three feet and two inches long, with a hilt-like hammer, bone carvings of beasts, and a tip made of heavy iron, which was slightly unbalanced towards the end, yet particularly suitable for swinging and slashing.
The moment he drew his sword, there wasn't even a trace of a shadow to be seen, only the awareness of a silvery arc cutting through the air and dust—and even the friction in the air caused visible shockwaves to ripple outward.
This sonic-speed sword strike had the power to split the fortified enamel armor of a knight and disembowel a magical beast several meters high with a single blow. It could kill a giant wild boar capable of easily toppling a house, a clear proof that Weyges's swordsmanship and physical fitness were approaching that of a Great Knight.
Clang!
But this nearly instinctive, utterly unrestrained strike was blocked by another longsword that was devoid of any blade.
