The bell ounded and the crowd roared, signaling the start of the match. Unarmed, I was a pretty good fighter, but put a weapon in my hand, particularly one I was good with and I was on an entirely diffrent level, a being transcendant of most others. The whirling, fluidic stroks of my naginata led into each other easily, confusing my dolt of an opponent at the same time. I knocked the greatsword up high, almost sending the massive blad flying, swung in a circular motion low, taking his knees out from under him with the staff portion of my weapon and finished with a thrust that stopped an inch from my opponent's throat. The match was over before I'd even got a chance to have a bit of fun. Defying tradition, I returned to the lounge before the results were done beine announced. The gashes on my shoulder had reopned durning the match, so I quickly bandaged them up before my next match.
