Vanguard
Vanguard looked forth at the spectacular clash of weapons. At this point, one could not dare lie such pretenses before this grand battle. To the mortal eye, this looked no different than a dance of lovers, two dragons intertwined with brilliant blows. As a display of skill, there was a glory to this symphony of weapons that shamed all theatrics ever imagined by mankind.
But to him, this was lukewarm. Of course, he was not blind. He could see better than anyone, the skillful techniques employed by the two warriors, even he could not deny that there was beauty and might that commanded respect in both. But it was of such banality, no different than a well made drawing of a child.
As impressive as it is, it is still nothing more than a shapely doodle. It cannot compare to a great monument, or a painting, or an epic. It is what it is, and for what it is, it is indeed beautiful. But all that is beautiful, especially because it is beautiful, eventually wilts and rots away. Perhaps not in the physical sense, but in a grander, more intimate scale.
To him, at the very least, what would had once a grand display was something he had seen over and over again. A broken record both shapely and elegant, but in the end it's nothing more than superficial garbage. The sound will always be the same.
There was a crack of metal echoing in the room, but something deeper overlapped with that singular sound. A voice, as calm as the river yet with crushing might as thunder.
"That's enough, both of you."
