I stretched my fingers. Each of them splayed into swords of their own. An almost knife like grip that flung picturesque swords towards the woman in front of me.
Her hair was part white, made of snow and ice, and the other was a brilliant black that contrasted her whole appearance. Her body wore a dress of immaculate make, even my skill couldn't find a single flaw in her dress.
Dull thuds echoed. My swords fell short of her body for a wave of ice had blocked my entire assault.
"Is that the extent of your skills! Flinging swords like a parlor jester. Fight me, do not make a mockery of this sacred dance!"
I relaxed my shoulders, my spear was thrown to the ground in what others would call a surrender. But my eyes made no such gestures. Instead a sword coalesced into my hand.
