The sound of metal ringing against metal echoed through the battlefield as Kenshi expertly parried and countered each strike. But the glaives were relentless, their numbers threatening to overwhelm even his formidable skill.
"Wind-Style Swordsmanship: Gale of a Thousand Cuts!" Kenshi shouted, his voice filled with determination.
He moved with lightning speed, his blades slicing through the air with the precision and fury of a storm. Each movement was fluid, a perfect blend of his Wind-Style Swordsmanship and the temporal manipulation of the Sword of Time.
The wind around him swirled violently, amplifying the speed and power of his attacks.
The glaives found themselves caught in a vortex of slashes, each one narrowly avoiding being cut down by the relentless barrage.
Kenshi's swords moved so quickly that they seemed to blur, leaving afterimages in their wake.
