SWOOSH!
Lucavion shot forward again, his estoc a blur of blackened light.
CLANG!
The Duke met him, their blades shrieking against one another. Sparks danced between them—golden lightning against void-starred steel.
Lucavion's strikes came fast, unpredictable, a relentless storm of piercing thrusts and feints. His footwork was wild yet precise, his blade weaving an erratic yet lethal pattern.
It was chaos. But it was controlled chaos.
And Thaddeus—
He understood now.
The way Lucavion fought, the way his instincts drove him—it wasn't just technique.
It was survival.
This boy has danced with death too many times to count.
His golden eyes gleamed with quiet acknowledgment as he met the onslaught head-on.
CLANG! SWOOSH! THUNK!
Lucavion's estoc flicked toward his throat—
Thaddeus sidestepped, his longsword sweeping in response—
Lucavion dodged, twisting mid-motion, already adjusting—
And that was what made him terrifying.
Every exchange, every clash—Lucavion absorbed.
