Silent

DENG.

Dorian crossed the distance so fast it almost felt like he flash-stepped, an ability that only Light Mancers should have had. But he had poured so much Mana into his legs that the lengths of his pants splintered apart, a ripping energy jetting out of him.

Theron blocked, or so it seemed. His wrist twisted just the slightest bit, his short sword parrying Dorian's blade to the side.

His movements seemed almost heavy, labored. Yet his dagger was as swift as darkness swallowing the light. Akin to one burying one's head under dozens of meters more of water, it streaked across the blinding red gold in the shadows.

Dorian barely curled his body out of the way, but the overextension of his arm in his first attack left him wide open. Theron's dagger missed, but his short sword slipped into Dorian's guard, slicing a gash right across his chest.