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The ten meters that had separated them vanished in a single beat. The speed was impressive, yes—but far more threatening than the speed itself was the footwork, so elusive that no one could read her path.
—Eyes first, legs second, then heart, then force.
Rodrick had repeated those words many times: after learning how to see, the next most important art was how to walk. And Elahan’s footwork had already reached the level of mastery.
Without bending her knees or ankles, she shifted her axis and center of gravity, sliding across bare earth as though it were ice. To move like that on dirt, not slick ice—it was unthinkable.
Totuga faltered at her approach, then chose the only option he could. If her path could not be read, then he would sweep the entire space.
“Hrrrraaaah!”
Both hands swung the warhammer in a great sideways arc. The gale it whipped up raised a cloud of dust—a testament to his brute force. However…
“That’s too high. You should mind the difference in our heights,” Elahan said as she slipped low under the hammer and thrust out her fist.
It was tiny. Compared to Totuga, laughably so. A fist too small to be called a weapon. Eyes wide, Totuga poured every ounce of strength into bracing his abdominal muscles.
And then, with a thunderous blast, his massive body was hurled back. Had it not been for his desperately tensed abs, for the renowned toughness of the Ursus, for his tribe’s ability Harden that reinforced...
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