The assistant waited for the two students to present themselves.
A few minutes earlier, after the boys had returned from the dressing room, a couple of girls had also walked into the practice room.
He was expecting the owner of the female name to step out as well.
A few daunting seconds and a shaken young man in complete fencing outfit stepped out of the crowd of males and a girl, dressed in a skintight fencing outfit strutted out of the crowd of females as well.
As these two students singled themselves out of the crowd, the assistant signaled to the other students to take their seats on the floor, facing the piste.
The young assistant motioned for the two students to climb atop the piste.
They awaited Master Daquan.
Kiefer stared on as he stood lightly in front of Yaritza.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't read her facial expression.
Her eyes, bluish and solid, staring him down as she maintained a curt stance a couple of inches before him.
Yaritza raised a finger to her eyebrows and brushed along its length.
Kiefer couldn't tell if that was a gesture of anxiety or condescendence.
The students heard heavy footsteps that seemed to be coming from behind a silk tapestry that was draped over an entrance in the shape of a door that was far down the fencing practice arena.
The curtain was yanked to the left and a man with daring height and a menacing gaze walked into the arena.
It was Master Daquan.
Master Daquan walked beside the students, his back to the piste and his eyes facing backwards.
One could feel his presence, an ever growing electric tension.
Master Daquan took a seat at the back of the practice arena, behind the students.
He breathed in the fresh air, letting the cool breeze from the bare windows caress the skin of his face.
'You may begin.'
Master Daquan's eyes fell over the students who were about to go up against each other on the piste.
The reason he picked these two students would remain a mystery to others but to him, it occurred only by mere observation.
A fencer or even, an individual capable of handling a sword, it would be noticed by their gaze, their temperament and their gait.
An experienced fencer could tell another experiend fencer or one capable of such expertise from a mundane amateur.
The clenched fist in Kiefer's chest only grew stronger, an inexplicable heat arising from inside of him, boiling long and hard enough to cause it to topple over.
He could feel the searing hot liquid splash against his insides, his eyes glazing with newfound fury.
Yaritza brandished her sabre towards him, its blade whistling through the air.
Her stance widened and her body was angled.
She looked like a true fencer.
Kiefer put on his mask and attained a daring pose, ready to strike.
As the whistle was blown, Yaritza lunged forwards, her feet light on the floor of the piste, her core engaging with her arms simultaneously.
Kiefer reacted almost immediately.
He swished the thin blade through the air, aiming at Yaritza, his face unreadable behind that sinister mask.
As they circled around each other on the piste, the tension in the room grew stronger.
The stundents shifted nervously, afraid as though they were in harm's way.
Kiefer moved towards Yaritza, maneuvering his sabre to spin around her's.
She realized with a paling face that she was caught off-guard a little too early.
The thin blade of the sabre Kiefer brandished spun around her blade, in clockwise motion.
Kiefer engaged his core, stretched his arm further and completed a full circle, pushing Yaritza's blade down ever so masterfully.
Immediately, he extended his arm, and spinning his body in the air, landed closer to Yaritza, the tip of the blade just centimeters away from the smooth surface of her forehead.
********
Master Daquan raised his head almost immediately, marveled at such combat skill.
He looked on.
The whistle was blown immediately by the assistant.
Kiefer watched from behind his mask at the girl in front of him, her life merely just a few seconds away from termination.
Kiefer couldn't see her face because it was hidden behind the mask, alright, but he could tell that his and hers bore the same expression, survival of the fittest.
He didn't know what came over him but he did know that it was from the deepest of what had lain dormant inside his being.
The whistle was blown once again and Kiefer found himself moving backwards for the second round.
Yaritza recollected herself and carried on, maintaining a proper stance.
As the whistle to commence the second round blasted through the charged atmosphere, Kiefer decided to attack first once again.
But that was his first mistake.
Because a snake is more cunning than a raven in the face of approaching imminent danger.
As soon as Kiefer lunged towards Yaritza, he felt a silent pull from behind him and almost immediately, he lost his poised stance.
Regaining posture almost immediately, Kiefer noticed a blur right in front of him
A smooth, fast blur.
It came in a few seconds.
He felt his blade connecting with another blade and a highly skilled topple occurring before his dazed eyes.
Kiefer's sabre flew out of the grip of his palm and landed farther away from him on the edge of the piste.
It lay there, cold and unsure.
Glancing towards the sabre and back towards who now stood towering before him, he noticed the tip of a sharp sabre, pointing to the tip of the Adams apple that quivered in his neck.
Another whistle blasted through the air.
Slowly the tip of the sabre was brought down from his neck and Kiefer recognized the person standing before him.
It was Yaritza, no shit.
How was she able to do that?
But before she turned her back towards him to take her last stance, he noticed something in her eyes.
It was as though his eyes were playing tricks on him, because there was a fleeting deep blue hue within her already blue eyes that he hadn't seen before.
Another whistle blasted and Kiefer stood on his feet once again.
Then the final whistle to commence the begin of the last match was blown and it was as though all hell broke loose.
********
Kiefer marched backwards in increasing speed, his face towards his opponent.
When he was satisfied with the distance between them, he lunged forward.
Flipping through the atmosphere, Kiefer sliced the blade of the sabre through where he thought Yaritza's head was.
The match wasn't friendly anymore.
Yaritza ducked with blinding speed, sliding with her knees bent as she moved past the blade of the sabre.
Kiefer landed behind Yaritza, turning to face her.
Yaritza wiped the ball of sweat that had formed on her bare head, her eyes locking with Kiefer's eyes.
Running towards him, she brandished her sabre against the air and came to stand before him, the clinking of the blades of their sabres floating through the air.
Soon, one thing led to another and Kiefer found himself dodging a strike to his chest and bringing his sabre to point towards Yaritza's neck.
It was then that he noticed, also, the tip of another sabre just few centimeters away from his abdomen.