The sound of combat shattered the cathedral's once-holy silence. Gareth moved with measured precision, gripping the steel rod as though it were an extension of his arm. His stance was defensive, his eyes locked on the assassin's dagger, the wicked blade gleaming with malice in the dim light.
The assassin lunged first, his movements a blur of speed and ferocity. The dagger slashed through the air, each strike aimed with deadly precision. Gareth parried with the steel rod, sparks flying as metal met metal. Every clash sent vibrations up Gareth's arms, but he held firm.
"You're slow, knight!" the assassin sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "What's the matter? Did they not teach you how to fight back in your barracks?"
Gareth didn't rise to the taunt. He knew better than to let his anger cloud his judgment. This assassin wasn't just a skilled fighter; he was a manipulator, trying to bait Gareth into making a mistake.
