Arvell twirled the sword in his hand as he walked to watch the black-ringed boy standing only 10 metres in front of him.
At this point, they had to wait for the professor's start signal, and then they were free to start their fight.
The professor had brought them to the field and led them to a small pile of training swords she had left there prior in the morning, giving them weapons to use to aid in their training,
The black-ringed youth put his fingers to his chin and looked at Arvell, somewhat confused, before opening his mouth to speak.
"What's your name?"
"It's common etiquette to give your name before asking that of others."
The youth pondered for a moment before nodding his head.
"Marcus Athburg, that's my name. Now, what's yours."
"My name's Arvell. Arvell Silvanus."
'Arvell, huh?' Marcus thought to himself while licking his slightly protruding canines with an eager expression, 'Let's see just how good you really are.'