Six figures moved almost as one, rushing to intervene as the black blade slid from the cut along the former Yecine's ribs. Red welled against the quite sliced to ribbons training fabric, a decisive win… by the stated rules. Both combatants stood with their weapons extended, but only one of them had decided to freeze in their follow-through.
Dark eyes looked to the side and the approaching referees - not in triumph, but because glancing at the reality that transcended such clean rules was unnecessary. After all, Corde had already experienced this once back in the duel at the competition grounds a bit over a year ago. The *threat* of a continued battle and the slight shame of technicalities to avoid fatalities.
