>>6103187If there’s one thing you have learned so far, is that Rubida does make good on her promises.
She rushes at you in a wide left swing which turns into a sharp thrust at the last second, banking on the weight of the axe and her own momentum to cleave through your defences.
To be fair, Rubida is not as tall as you, but she is well-built.
At another time, it could have worked.
“Hnf!” She huffs as you reposition yourself, your boots skimming on the wet ground, using the edge of your sword to catch her weapon. The head of the axe impacts with your blade in a shower of sparks as metal finds its match and more than its match in Maduan tetracerarmide.
Rubida pulls back, a shaky grin on her lips.
“Is that fair? For a country bumpkin like you to hold such a good blade?”
“I earned it,” you reply, raising it and changing your stance into that of the aggressive Lion.
You allowed her the honour of first strike.
Or maybe you were a bit too shaken by your training with Master.
As always, he’s leagues above you in everything. Skill, swiftness, experience and strength.
But Rubida is roughly on par with you.
Your turn.
Axes are a funny thing. They are great on the offence, and you also used to carry one. You certainly made use of it in the fight with the <span class="mu-i">Malostromo</span> tree.
But you know something.
They don’t offer much <span class="mu-i">reach.</span>
You thrust forward, your tetraceramide edge biting once again on Rubida’s metal. The head of the axe holds it for a moment, then she lets go, falling back and your strike goes wide, raking against the rock wall behind her.
Luckily, your weapon is not Master’s blindglass, so you don’t simply cleave through it like air, the sword’s edge still drawing a deep gash on stone, leaving behind a line of gravel and dust.
“Ack! Watch where you aim that thing, Candente!”
“I’m quite confident about my ability to aim,” you reply, this time going for her leg.
“This happened because I lost my equipment! This is not a fair fight!” She complains, leaning back at the last moment. Then, with a glint in her blue eyes, she rushes forward, the back of her axe raised to try and hit either your shoulder or your dominant hand.
Smart.
[cont.]
