Ezrahl paused for a moment and then smiled a little.
"Alright."
She watched with amusement as he leaned against the tree once again, watching the silver stream. Something was odd about him.
But Aesther decided to save the thinking for later.
She continued her sword practice, unleashing powerful stricks and stabs. In her former life, being a disciple of Lady Eleonora, Aesther naturally excelled in healing and martial arts.
Weapons were not her best forte.
"Your form is good," She heard him say, "But you lack practice."
Aesther kept on striking. The more she practised and her arms began to grow tired, the more mistakes she made. It easily became a frustrating ordeal.
Her body lacked the strength and endurance to continue.
And yet, she refused to let herself take rest until her body could continue no more. The crease between her brows increased and Aesther became more and more agitated with the passing time.
