The Hero King, Reincarnate to Master the Art of War

"Yes. Here I go—"

Inglis began to close the distance, sliding her feet on the ground and planning to maintain her pace until she was just one step away from the Duke of War.

Determining which weapon held the advantage in terms of destructive power, durability, or speed would be impossible until they actually clashed. However, it was clear that Inglis was at a significant disadvantage regarding reach. Whether it was the length of their arms or their weapons, Inglis was completely outmatched.

To land an attack on Jeldegrīva, she would need to parry his blow at least once. While it wasn't beyond her to exploit a weakness in Jeldegrīva’s stance and strike with unreactable speed, the Duke of War had proven to be a formidable opponent, keeping pace with Inglis even when her Ether Armor was fully activated. It seemed futile to rely on speed alone, and if Jeldegrīva couldn't respond to her, Inglis would be left disappointed.

Both Inglis and Jeldegrīva were kindred spirits, finding enjoyment in each other's company without the need for reason or calculation. Inglis wished to prolong their thrilling, toe-to-toe battle as much as possible.

Moreover, she did possess a technique to penetrate Jeldegrīva’s defenses without giving him a chance to react: Divine Feat. This divine maneuver allowed Inglis to leap through space, placing herself as close as she desired. If she chose to appear behind him, he would have no chance to intercept her. But such a tactic felt unsporting to her. Victory without testing the full strength of her opponent was hollow and did little to advance her mastery of the martial arts.

So it was that Inglis found herself just outside the reach of Jeldegrīva's mighty sword. Then, she crouched, pushed off the ground, and launched herself into a sprint.

The ground shattered beneath her, but even the noise arrived too late to alert Jeldegrīva. Inglis' small frame was already bearing down on him with divine speed. Despite knowing her weapon's disadvantage in reach, she leaped fearlessly into the battle. Jeldegrīva found her audacity invigorating.

He admired her. He simply admired her. It had nothing to do with her potential beauty as she matured or any superficial qualities. Jeldegrīva couldn't have cared less if Inglis was a young boy or an old man. He respected her solely as an individual and as a fellow warrior.