Kittara had expected Grak to be much better. His first lunge was weak and she could have removed his head right then. Instead she moved to one side and easily avoid his blow. This was the best Maran had ? Even as her old self she could have taken him.
"Remember the news channels." Chlo said to her.
Yes the news channels needed a good show. She used her sword the way most people thought swords should be used. She ran at Grak and swung her sword in a large arc to end at his neck. Of course he avoided the blow, a child could have avoided it. Around her though the crowd screamed for more. A few more attacks from Grak, one actually came within a foot of her. No wonder the Empire needed The Damned. Kittara was bored now, it was supposed to be 'her day' after all.
"Can I kill him ?" She asked Chlo.
A brief pause.
"Sikush says do it with style."
She'd been still too long, been day dreaming, or so it looked. Grak rushed at her, his sword coming around for a swipe at her head. Instead of avoiding him she steeped towards him, using her left hand to easily push his sword away. At the same time she punched her blade hard into his chest, felt it go through bone and tissue. She was now right up against him, as close as a lover.
"That is how you use a sword, you fucking moron." She whispered to him.
She didn't pull the blade back, she followed him down to the ground, twisting the blade as they fell, watching the life go from his eyes. Slowly she stood up and gave his body a long low bow.
"For the Empire !" She shouted.
She held the bloody training sword high above her head, the blood dripping onto her face. The crowd were going crazy and the legend of Kittara had begun.
