Amy spun the spear in her hand once before placing it diagonally in front of her body. Her stance was both firm and steady.
anwhile, Corey twirled the longsword in his hand once, then rested it on his shoulder as he stared at Amy with an expression that seed far too relaxed.
In fact, it was pure indifference.
Amy frowned.
"You're not going to take a stance?'
"No need."
Amy's frown deepened.
"Hmph. Just so you know, I can use both the spear and the sword. I'm better using a sword, but to go easy on you, I'll use the spear."
Corey raised his brows with a baffled expression, "I advice you to use what you're best at."
"No need." She scoffed.
She bent her knees slightly, and then she pushed off the ground.
Her movent was fast, and in an instant, she was in front of him, her spear thrusting straight at his chest.
Or at least that's how it would seem in the eyes of other average Tier 3s and below.
To Corey, she might as well have been running as fast as he used to run before the apocalypse began.
And he was a slow runner.
He almost yawned in boredom, but he chose not to.
anwhile, to those who were observing this spar, Amy's movent was not only fast, it was sharp and precise.
But...
'Too linear. Too obvious.' Corey thought indifferently.
He shifted his body slightly to the left, and the spear missed him by a breath.
No aura flare. No skill usage. Just... simple, chanical movent.
Amy's eyes narrowed.
She spun and swung her spear in a wide arc towards his ribs.
Corey ducked.
A slow duck.
While also being very casual.
Amy's spear whizzed past his head.
Corey raised his head and looked into her eyes.
"You dropped your shoulder too early. That swing was screaming telegraph."
Amy gritted her teeth.
"What do you know?!" She shouted, and then she moved.
Her spear twisted and turned- thrust, jab, swipe, thrust.
Many hunters would say her attacks were sharp, clean, and also controlled.
But Corey stepped around her attacks like he was in a casual dance.
No strain. No rush. No aggression.
"Step lighter," Corey said calmly as he tilted his head to the side, letting a jab slide past his cheek.
"You're too heavy on your front foot."
Amy's grip on her spear tightened.
She twisted her body and did a sudden backward thrust with the butt of her spear, aiming for his chin.
But Corey wasn't there.
She turned.
He was already behind her with his sword still resting on his shoulder.
"... Is this how you plan on making bleed? Do better, Amy." Corey smiled with his back facing her.
Amy didn't answer.
Not because she didn't want to, but because she was extrely stunned by what had just happened.
She knew that the skill Corey used to appear behind her was one of the basic movent skills called Quick Step.
To use Quick Step, one just had to circulate the mana in their legs to move faster, and she saw the slight glow that appeared on Corey's foot when he moved.
'What is this?'
She gripped her spear tightly, and then she launched forward again.
Her spear glowed faintly.
She activated one of her movent skills, [Silver Gale Step], and in a flash, her body blinked slightly before appearing in front of Corey, her spear slicing diagonally upwards.
Faster.
And cleaner than before.
But it didn't matter.
Corey moved half a step back, tilted his upper body, and let the blade scrape past his chest without ever touching him.
He didn't swing.
He didn't block.
He just watched her.
Like a teacher watching a student trying too hard to impress.
Amy spun again.
Low swipe.
Corey hopped slightly and landed on the flat part of her spear.
She froze.
Before she could react, he lightly hopped off the spear and landed behind her again.
Amy spun around instantly, but the mont she faced him, the tip of Corey's longsword was already resting lightly on her neck.
"... You're too predictable," Corey said calmly.
He lowered the sword.
Took two steps back.
And then slowly turned the sword in his hand.
Amy took a deep breath and clenched her jaw.
She moved again.
Faster.
Wilder.
Fiercer.
Spear swings that cut through the air.
Jabs that looked deadly.
Corey blocked her first jab with a flick of his wrist.
The second with a sidestep and a tap.
The third with a light parry and a smack on her knuckles with the flat of his blade.
Amy flinched.
"You're putting too much emotion into it now," Corey said. "Calm down."
Amy didn't.
She dashed forward again and thrust.
This ti, Corey stepped into her range.
His body was close.
Too close for her liking.
His sword slapped her spear down mid-thrust, and his left hand flicked her forehead.
Tok.
Amy's eyes widened.
She stumbled back subconsciously.
"You overcommitted. Don't let your arms stretch that far without calculating your opponent's counter range," Corey said causally, spinning his sword in one hand.
Amy's face flushed with a mix of embarrassnt and anger.
Corey just stood there, one hand in his pocket, sword in the other.
Not even sweating.
"Again," Amy growled.
"You sure?"
She gritted her teeth.
"I said-!"
She dashed forward, and she slashed, she stabbed, she twirled.
But Corey dodged everything.
No wasted movent.
No release of his aura.
And no release of his mana.
Just raw technique.
At one point, he disard her.
The spear flew and clattered to the corner of the room.
Amy widened her eyes.
Before she could react, Corey threw his sword into the air, caught it by the blade, and held out the hilt toward her.
"Why don't you use a weapon you're better at. Who knows. You might finally make bleed."
Corey grinned slightly, and Amy remained silent as she stared at Corey.
She shifted her gaze to her spear that was on the floor, and then she looked back at Corey.
Although her mind told her it was futile, she was known for her stubbornness, and deep in her heart was an unwillingness to just allow everything to end the way it was.
She took the sword.
"Again."
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