Ethan didn't immediately turn around. He held his plain iron blade aloft for a fraction of a second, allowing the last few droplets of emerald ichor to slide cleanly off the tip before executing a crisp, rhythmic flip of his wrist to sheath the weapon.
"A true swordsman does not enter a fight to battle, Roy," Ethan said, his smooth baritone carrying a freezing, absolute certainty as he finally turned his head to look over his shoulder. "He enters to annihilate. When you execute an attack, your mind must be entirely devoid of hesitation. Do not think about what you will do if you miss, and do not formulate a fallback plan in case your target survives. A master of the blade has no need for a second strike, because the first is always more than sufficient to end everything in its path."
Roy's jaw remained slightly slack, his breath catching in his throat as those heavy, philosophical words etched themselves directly into his soul.
