Call it luck. Whatever be the definition, but the way Fanyi's chest rose and fell in a constant rhyme made Uche wonder how the man had survived the first tribal war. They had raged into combat together and had battled death itself. However, fatigue was something their enemy had preyed upon. It was the same reason why some of the men had lost their lives, leaving memories and emptiness as a testimony. But how had the man survived?
Ducking to the left, Uche jumped back, missing the wooden sword which swung freely above his face.
"Same old tricks? Impressive." Fanyi said and took a different stance. It was the 'ice on water' stance. A technique that only a good swordsman can muster.
Uche clenched his weapon. He had been on the defensive as always, waiting for the right moment. But knowing
