Ives took a single step back, a cold, ruthless smile curving his lips.
"Now, it's my turn."
Drawing a deep breath, he suddenly surged forward, his entire form blurring into a phantom shadow.
Karim's reflexes were extraordinary, almost instinctual. He swung his greatsword defensively at once—but even that was not enough.
A crimson burst of blood erupted into the air.
The next instant, Ives stood calmly beside Karim, his longsword spotless.
Karim glanced down in shock. His thick, heavy armor now bore a clean puncture at the ribs, from which blood poured steadily. He hadn't even seen Ives's blade move.
Clutching his side in agony, Karim staggered back, leaning heavily against the wagon behind him.
Ives tilted his head slightly, mocking yet sincere. "Impressive reflexes—or rather, instincts. Your eyes couldn't possibly follow my sword, yet your body sensed danger and moved on its own. That's the only reason you're still breathing."
