Chapter 32: Can’t take it
The moment the knight lunged, the air shifted—sharp, silent, suffocating. His wooden sword cut through the green-lit silence dome with such speed that Wesley barely caught the movement.
A whistle pierced the air as the weapon swept toward his neck like a crescent of death.
Wesley ducked.
Barely.
A strand of his hair floated down from the breeze of that strike. His heart punched against his ribcage as he twisted away, boots scraping against the arena floor, lungs burning with disbelief.
That wasn’t a sparring strike.
That was a kill shot.
The knight wasn’t holding back. He wasn’t teaching. He was attacking like Wesley was a monster to be culled.
"What the hell—!" Wesley blurted out, panic flashing across his face.
But the knight gave no pause, no warning, and no mercy. Another slash came down diagonally.
Wesley instinctively jumped to the left, rolling over his shoulder and scrambling back to his feet. But the moment he stood—