Cirque de Gladiateurs, Lyretia, Prisia
Finn
No sooner had the bell for the third round rung than Finn felt the slight wind of the Espada's rapier passing by his ear. The future shadows were narrow now, their margins so thin it was only by trusting his instincts before he could mentally process the reaction that he stayed ahead of the suddenly swifter blade.
Now that he'd decided to start scoring, Finn's first strike came when he backflipped away from the sword, sending a trio of cards at the Espada from the neck down.
The first two were flicked away, and the last one struck the sword squarely, leaving a chip in the blade.
