The gates clanged shut with a finality that echoed like a death knell. The duel was on.
She didn't speak. No roar, no taunt. Just a slow advance, sword trailing, crimson red eyes locked on Byung like a hawk on a mouse. Byung circled left, sword raised, testing the gravel under his boots—it shifted slightly, a potential slip. He lunged first—a probing slash aimed at her shoulder, the blade whistling through the air with force that stirred the dust. She sidestepped with minimal effort, the robe swirling around her legs, the sword's tip leaving a furrow in the dirt. Byung followed with a thrust, committing more, the blunt tip aimed for her midsection. She twisted, the blade missing by a hair, her white hair whipping like a flag.
