The waves of Qi roiled and ascended.
The young man in a green robe stood on one foot atop the sword hilt, his hands clasped behind his back. Perhaps due to the rapid descent, his clothes billowed slightly, perfectly accentuating the wide sleeves of his robe. His black hair fluttered lightly, with the bright moon hanging behind him, casting a silvery white glow all around.
The youth's smile lingered, a hint of cold radiance in his eyes.
His robe fell back into place, lifting two strands of hair at his temples.
He straightened up.
The longsword under his feet sang sharply, the visible ripples of Qi spreading out in all directions.
The middle-aged man dressed in a cross-collared robe, who bore the air of a bohemian scholar, caught his breath, nearly overcome by the sight. Yet, due to the pride of his noble clan, he managed to maintain his composure.
