Asta charged, frost swirling around his boots. One by one, ice spears began to appear around him—ten, twenty, fifty—until over a hundred hovered like floating death.
As he reached striking distance, Asta swung his blade down with brutal force. Nolan raised his own sword, catching the blow in a metallic crash that split the air.
The two clashed again and again—steel meeting steel in a flurry of sparks. Asta's spears shot forward in rhythm with his sword strikes, but each one shattered harmlessly against the faint golden barrier surrounding Nolan's body.
Asta gritted his teeth. His barrier… it's too strong.
Nolan parried another blow, calm and composed. "Not bad," he said lightly. "Your form's clean. But you're wasting movement."
The crowd gasped as Asta slashed in a wide arc, trying to overwhelm Nolan. But Nolan stepped back smoothly, sliding across the ground. His eyes sharpened. Malric used this move when we sparred… let's see if it works for me.
