Three pulses exploded from the triangle behind Elias — one horizontal, one vertical, one spinning like a sawblade — all shaped, tight, and precisely timed.
Cedric responded like a veteran duelist. He dropped low, swept his blade into a deflection arc that redirected the vertical blast, then rolled into a pivot behind the sawblade to escape the spin.
The horizontal wave still nicked his back.
"Shit!" He hissed.
Then he came at Elias like a shadow set on fire.
Woooooong...
Steel clashed with air.
No, not air — a condensed barrier, folded into threads that vibrated like harp strings.
Each time Cedric's blade touched it, it sang.
Elias spun backward, one hand raised.
This wasn't overwhelming dominance.
It was performance.
Miss Leana watched from above with crossed arms, eyes glinting.
"He's dancing."
"Is that bad?" Damon asked, grin already twitching.
"No," she murmured. "It probably means that he respects him."
On the stage, Cedric's aura shifted — just slightly.
