The fight seemed like a seamless, endless dance, beautiful and deadly. The blade glittered in the sunlight, clashing against invisible swords, sometimes cutting clean through them, other times seeming to flow around the imaginary block, cutting through armor, shields, and finally flesh, in an endless line of enemies, as the bladesman himself never seemed to stop, pause, or even falter. Each move was a part of the dance, but surprising as well as seemingly obvious to the person watching, after that move was conducted, of course, only to be surprised by the obvious simplicity of the next. It ended elegantly, Kax's body extended over the circle, on foot on an edge of the circle, elegantly poised in a powerful, full-body thrust, with the tip of his sword resting perfectly above the other side of the circle. His skin was slick with sweat, but not even once had he opened his eyes, nor had his breathing ever spiked over its normal rate. He finally opened his eyes, feeling more relaxed and in tune.<br/><br/>He turned to his soon-to-be wife, her words seeming to surprise him a bit. He smiled," Yes, it is meant to be a dance-like sword-play. Seems fitting to transform killing, such a pass-time for my people, into something of an art, wouldn't you say? Yes, I suppose you would," With that cryptic statement, he sheathed the blade again, and began to walk away.