Previously
Willow couldn't help but repeat himself, the words carrying a note of respect and anticipation. "It might be repetitive of me," he began, "but let us have a good fight."
The Sage responded with an infectious smile, nodding his head in agreement. The Sage shifted his stance. It was a fluid, almost dance-like movement, a prelude to the powerful technique that Willow had anticipated. The Sage's right foot slid back gracefully, and his hand hovered over the hilt of his bamboo sword, and in that moment, it was unmistakable—the iconic pose of the Sage's most renowned and formidable Sword Art: [Quick Draw].
And yet, it was at that moment that Willow's confidence soared. He could do it. He could win this, , for he held a hidden ace up his sleeve. He could practically taste the sweet tang of victory in the air, like the promise of rain after a parching drought. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his chances of emerging triumphant were soaring.
