Derek deflected the incoming strike with quick parry, and with a twist of his wrist, sent his opponent’s sword flying.
Holding his out, with the point inches from the man’s chest, he smiled. “Do you yield, Brother? Or shall I run you through?”
Lyle glared at him as he blew a strand of hair out of his eyes. “You cheated. This was supposed to be a combat lesson, not one on swordplay.”
Derek’s smile widened as he lowered his sword and offered a hand. Once Lyle was on his feet, Derek explained, “Not all combat is smash and bludgeoning. Again?”