"You're Atticus, right?"
Kael's voice was calm, almost too calm. One would never think that he had just been punched so hard in the guts a few seconds ago.
Hearing Kael's question, Atticus couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in slight confusion, but he still decided to answer his question, "Yeah."
Kael nodded.
The eight swords strewn across the forest floor began to tremble, and in a seamless motion, they shot towards Kael's form. Each sword swiftly sheathed itself in the corresponding scabbard on his waist.
Kael turned his neck to the sides, cracking it, rotating his shoulders trying to get rid of the stiff feeling in his body.
"I owe you an apology," Kael declared, taking deliberate steps toward Atticus, his voice carrying an air of nonchalance. "I haven't been taking this fight seriously."
With each step he took, the atmosphere around Kael seemed to change. The wind intensified, causing leaves and branches to rustle in response.
