Editing Dragons Fangs (section)

====A price for Victory====

The Champion was the most dangerous creature, beside the Emperor, Ho-Sun ever fought. Despite the peerless strikes the Primarch would point her way, the Champion dodged them in the most unnatural ways possible. Her movements were erratic, chaotic, and yet gracious to a fault, but most of all, they were impossible! She would point her behind in front of the trust of his sword, only to have her body suddenly levitate and in a rotation of her whole, cut down the Primarch in a slicing arc. Her techniques were stupid in the eyes of an expert of swordmanship like Ho-Sun and yet the Primarch suffered slices after slices on its once pristine adamantine armor.

After each cut, the audience would descend in a more profound frenzy, soon the Primarch could only hear the overwhelming noises from the crowd. In front, the Champion was in a sort of trance, dancing even though she was in the middle of a deadly duel.

In a rallying moment, the Primarch shut down his senses. He sheathed his sword and adopted a stance of balance. His every efforts focused on calming his mind, on isolating itself from the raging chaos around him, and yet still images of the Champion could still be seen by him in his darkness. He noticed he could still perfectly sense the Champion, oddly enough. He was ready now, he had found the weakness in his enemy, he had to be the one defending, and he had to be in peace when not too long ago passion was guiding his hand.

Unlike the Emperor during their duel, who was like a ghost he could never perceive, no movement ever betraying the depth of his thoughts, no posture ever adopted and still an aura that showed no point where one could strike. Unlike Him the Champion was all too transparent. Already, she had begin to become confuse at the behavior of her opponent. The apparent calm and serenity of the Primarch seemed to.. disturb her. Her dance stopped, instead she started jumping around, yelling, crying??! Apparent rage could be felt in her voice now, a strike was imminent...

And strike she did.

In an aerial spin, the Champion came at Ho-Sun, her sword, coming the right, pointing straight at his head.

With a focus of lethal precision, the Primarch opposed his right-handed main sword, Divine Moon, to the pointing edge of the Champion's sword. The shock between the two emitted a wave of force that was felt through the arena, cutting down the remainder of the madmen who were still on the ground. The force of the shock was such that Divine Moon could not withstand it. The Primarch's sword was shattered in pieces, an event that, if the mind of the Primarch was not isolated from it, would have crushed his spirit.

But the Champion was not done, in an unnatural display of agility, one no one could have ever predicted, she came with another attack this one falling in a vertical slice right to the Primarch's head.

His first sword still in its parrying position, his eyes still shut, his senses still calm, his mind still purely focused, the Primarch did a slight, single step to the left.

The Champion's attack entirely missed, for the first time in their duel, the Champion's strike did not meet the Primarch's armor. The window of opportunity was there, wide open.

Opening his eyes, focusing all his being in this one single strike, the Primarch unsheathed Radiant Sun. In a wide, slicing arc, the sword sliced right across the Champion's neck, severing her body from her head. Blood flowed from her open arteries and mingled with the blood of the hundred of people already lying. In a last display of strangeness, the body of the Champion landed on its feet, and embarked in its last dance, as her head laid there still singing a now mute song, before falling.

The Primarch had won. But the price of victory was terrible. Divine Moon, the sword that saw him crowned as the Grandmaster was shattered to an irreparable state, for a member of the Kamo clan, there was no greater shame than having a sword destroyed. But still he was alive, and his enemy was defeated. The prize for his victory would now be that sword of strange powers, for to leave without nothing but a sword destroyed would have been a shame the Primarch could never live with.

And such the Muse met the Primarch.