Wood met wood with a crystalline ring as Lucifer and Deia circled each other in the secluded courtyard. Though they wielded practice swords, both had infused their weapons with enough resonance to create the distinctive sound of true combat.
Deia struck first—a lightning-fast thrust aimed at Lucifer's left shoulder. He parried with a controlled flick of his wrist, the economy of his movement betraying years of relentless training. They separated, reset, and engaged again.
"Your style is interesting," Lucifer observed as they exchanged a series of probing attacks. His verdant eyes tracked her movements with calm precision. "Elements of traditional Eastern fencing, but with unique flourishes I haven't seen before."
Deia moved like flowing water, her footwork precise and light. "The Southern Sea Sun Palace preserved techniques that were lost when the Eastern schools standardized their approaches," she replied, seamlessly transitioning from defense to offense with a diagonal slash.
