Dante’s pov
The air filled with the sound of steel clanging against steel as sweat fell down from my face.
I wasn’t tired, but my opponents were wheezing like old fellows as we began again.
“Once more,” I called, turning the blade in my hand.
The three warriors eyed each other. Two of them seemed nervous, their bleached hands slipping on the hilts of their swords.
Pups. They were fine to deal with some wandering rogue looking for trouble in a back alley, but not meant for the kind of threat that might come skulking our way if everything went to s**t.
The youngest of them, a kid named Rian decided to lunge at me with an angry shout. I stepped aside so effortlessly that his own forward momentum forced him past me, and I tapped the flat of my practice blade gently against his back even
