The former track runner crossed eleven meters in four explosive strides, his shock blade screaming as white lightning traced through the air.
"Watch the overhead arc... he is striking with maximum downward momentum!" the dark-haired striker called out from the bleachers, leaning forward with narrowed eyes.
"His blade speed is three times faster than an ordinary Rank E fighter!"
The First Player pivoted on the ball of his left foot, letting the electrified edge graze the fabric of his cloak by fractions of an inch.
The shock blade slammed into the court floor, blasting a spiderweb of deep fractures into the pavement and sending pale sparks showering across the paint.
"He has immense acceleration, but his recovery frame is completely uncoordinated," the youth observed calmly, stepping inside the boy's guard with fluid grace.
"The patron is jerking his limbs like an amateur puppeteer pulling strings."
