B4C9/B6C9 Vs. Faster Opponents

With a flutter of red cloth Cinder charged in.

Her speed surprised me like it had before, but this time I was ready for it and focused on my footwork, stepping back and raising my hilt to catch her blade. Diverting it high, I thrust forward for her chest, but she swayed away and chopped low to my legs. Crocea Mors clashed against her sword, swept low and to the side, and I tried to step in and ram the pommel into her chest. She saw it, however, and skipped away with a delicate flourish.

When it came to speed, she had the edge, but that was hardly new. Just about everyone did who I was used to fighting with, and I'd learned to adapt. The answer to incredible speed was a strong defence and I focused on that, keeping my sword up and angled down towards her. From that position, with the steel blade diagonally across my body, I could defend and attack at the same time – catching her weapon on my guard, or the lower part of my blade, while driving the tip towards her.

If anything, it felt a little easier to move without my armour restricting me. I felt naked, but also a little lighter on my feet. It was refreshing.

"You have a good defence," Cinder complimented, probing it with a quick thrust towards my face. My parry was clean, my counter-attack cleaner, but the way she wrapped her blade about mine and pushed it to one side?

That felt the cleanest.

–B4C9


The girl was fast, I'd give her that. Faster than me. Compared to someone like Blake or Ruby, however, she was incredibly slow. Compared to Pyrrha, her attack was incredibly telegraphed. I'd put her somewhere around Level Twenty at a guess. Give or take five or six levels. Enough with the Stat Distribution to take on any member of the Labour Caste her own level. Enough that with her companions, she'd have no difficulty destroying a small village like ours.

But not enough to take on a Hero. Or someone who fought like one.

Rather than parry her twin strikes, I stepped into them, letting them hit my shoulders early, before they had the proper swing or strength behind them. The woman gasped and leapt back, but it was already too late.

She screamed as Crocea Mors carved through her left thigh, cutting the limb off entirely. The woman slumped to the floor, blades flying away. "N-No," she cried. "I-Impossible. This isn't possible." She turned, dragging herself with both hands back towards her commander, who was no longer laughing. His eyes were wide, his mouth open. "H-Help me!"

There was no helping her. She'd already taken a fatal blow and would only continue to bleed out. I gave her the only mercy I could, a swift stab through the back of the neck and a twist. The Blade Dancer slumped, dead.

–B6C13