The construct crossed the gap between platforms in two steps and swung.
Leon ducked under it, the strike passing close enough that he felt the displaced air against the top of his head, and came back up with his sword already moving.
CLANG!
The blade connected with the construct's forearm and the impact told him several things at once. Dense. Not stone despite looking like it — the internal structure was something harder, more uniform, without the grain or fracture points that stone had. His sword had moved it but hadn't damaged it.
Not a material I can cut through easily, he noted, stepping back and giving himself room.
The construct reset its stance. No aggression in the movement — just efficiency, the repositioning of something that had been designed to be difficult rather than fast. It was slightly slower than him. Not dramatically, but measurably.
