The clang of steel echoed through the training hall, a sharp counterpoint to the rhythmic grunts emanating from the two figures locked in combat. Azan, a young man with fiery blue hair and a cocky glint in his eyes, swung his chaos-imbued blade in a wide arc. The air around the greatsword crackled with dark energy, promising a devastating blow.
Ryan, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, barely moved. He sidestepped the attack with a nonchalant grace that belied the danger he'd just avoided. Azan's sword cleaved through the empty air, the force of the swing sending a tremor through the stone floor.
Azan scowled, frustration twisting his features. Chaos energy coursed through the gauntlet, a buzzing addition the adrenaline thrumming in his chest.
He was strong, faster than he ever thought possible, but Ryan… Ryan moved like a phantom, his every dodge and parry a blur of controlled chaos.
