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Was she hiding her other hand for a reason, you wondered. In fencing, it was simply to keep it out of the way, to prevent it from being cut, but the rules of Moon-Cutting said you could do whatever you wished with the off-hand. To do otherwise was to dare to take on your opponent with…well, one hand tied behind your back.
There was no way this bitch was that confident. How to get her to open up, you wondered warily.
You tossed your blade to your left hand and adjusted your stance just as Magnus’s hand came down, and the duel started. With a quick lunge, you snapped out an incomplete jab of a cut- this blade could not stab, but a near miss of one cut just as well.
Somehow, you nicked her- you hadn’t even been intending to hit her with that one, but Yuliana hadn’t even <span class="mu-i">moved</span>, besides flinching a little. She’d just stood there and took it, but you weren’t wondering why yet, you were already following through with the move you <span class="mu-i">did</span> anticipate hitting her. The attack that wasn’t from the knife at all.
One of Hell Gitt’s tricks in his fighting style was something called the Magician’s Strike. It was a simple enough principle- divert the foe’s attention with a feint while hiding your actual attack where their eyes weren’t. The <span class="mu-i">real</span> attack in this case was your right hand swinging wide out as you stepped forward to turn your hip into the slap. The sort of full power smack like Richter needed every so often.
Yuliana didn’t have a thick skull like he did, you bet. Time to wake her up- and pay her back proper for the train station trespass.
Your palm collided with her cheek with an echoing <span class="mu-i">WHACK</span>, and it snapped her head to the side as your wrist followed through, spinning her as her torso tried to compensate for her neck. For a moment, you saw the wide eyes of disbelief venturing sideways too slowly to glare at you. She was seeing stars for sure with that one.
Take that, you oh so proud queen-of-nothing <span class="mu-i">whore</span>.
She swayed on her feet, and you knew you had a moment to capitalize on. Whether or not she had been letting you hit her before, you definitely had something now…you could slice her wherever you wanted.
>Give her a chop right across the face. Make her as pretty as you are. Would serve her right.
>Slice her across the back. A wound on the back served to humble. Something she was in sore need of.
>Step back. Let her find her wits again. You weren’t going to take a free shot at her with a knife.
>Screw the knife. Slap her silly. You didn’t need an edge to cut her down.
>Other?
