Daro Kesh settled into his guard at the center of the oldest yard, and this time he didn’t hold his training back at the early-Bronze threshold. While still honoring Mina’s total prohibition against striking or sweeping Seyun’s braced left foot, Daro let the full, veteran weight of his Deeper Bronze attainment—forged through ten years of independent swordsmanship north of Oran and deepened when his student Kes taught him to admit unexpected side routes—settle over the four-foot hardwood blade.
Even from six paces away, Seyun felt the difference in his teeth and ribs. During the threshold pass three minutes ago, Daro’s blade had felt like a heavy timber beam moving at a readable pace. Now, the air around the hardwood edge seemed to darken and compress into a broad, seamless plane that left zero comfortable gap for a defender to pause and deliberate.
“One exchange, open upper-body speed and weight,” Daro called out, his voice devoid of malice yet entirely uncompromising. “Hold your centerline if you can, Seyun!”
Daro crossed the six paces in a single ground-eating surge. His hardwood sword came down from a high overhead guard in a crushing upright cleave aimed straight at Seyun’s right collarbone. And then, two inches before crash, Daro shifted his rear hip using the exact multi-route depth he had earned when his student Kes taught him to admit unexpected side angles. That turned the upright cleave into a flat, whistling cross-body slice aimed at Seyun’s left ribs.
