There was no ceremonial prelude; no prayers to the goddess for a fair duel. Such formalities were cumbersome in the North. Bjorn kicked off from the ground, his foot leaving a deep impression in the dirt.
"Hah!"
With a shout, he swung one of his axes, bringing it down on Sylas's head with precision. Bjorn chuckled as he saw Sylas raise his sword to block.
"Go ahead, try blocking, kid."
With Sylas's weight, his stance would likely collapse on impact. And in that moment, Bjorn would launch a relentless barrage to overwhelm him.
But then, something unexpected happened.
Thwack!
"What the—!?"
Bjorn's vision flashed white as something struck him hard. Shaking off the dizziness, he looked back at Sylas.
"Did he hit me with the hilt?"
It became clear from Sylas's stance that he had closed in swiftly to strike Bjorn's face with the hilt of his sword.
