As the arena hummed with anticipation, Varen Drakov stepped forward, his fiery presence casting a subtle heat into the already charged air. His eyes locked onto Lucavion, who stood with a posture so relaxed it bordered on insolent. The unaffiliated swordsman tilted his head slightly, his smirk curling into something sharper, almost mocking.
"Ready?" Lucavion asked, his voice light and playful, as though the match was a trivial amusement. He raised his blade slightly, the light glinting off its edge. "Should I go easy on you?"
Varen's eyes narrowed, his grip on his greatsword tightening. His voice cut through the tense atmosphere, cold and commanding. "Cease your words. We shall speak with our blades."
