Lucas darted to the side.
The movement was sudden.
Aldric was caught off guard—genuinely startled—as Lucas cut the angle.
"—?!"
Lucas was already at Aldric's right side.
In a single breath, he twisted the end of the hoe's handle to the right—yet his posture was strange.
Not a downward strike.
Not a horizontal swing either.
His body lowered.
His hips rotated.
His shoulder dropped with the motion.
The stance—like someone about to swing a golf club.
Silvara's eyes widened.
Lucas grinned.
And—
SWOOSH!
An upward swing, from low to high.
Aldric reacted on instinct.
He stepped back—then another—moving away from the arc of the strike.
The hoe hit nothing.
Dust split apart.
The air was cleaved.
The arena froze.
"…Huh?"
Some spectators laughed in confusion.
Others fell silent, unsure of what they had just witnessed.
Silvara—
smiled. Finally, she thought.
---
At the seat of honor—
Matruska stared, dumbfounded.
