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Shield on the left, sword on the right.

Whereas shields too could be weapons, so too could swords become shields.

Just as Fanilly leveraged her mobility, Serenity leveraged her stability. She had not built up speed herself, not with her striding approach, and while there were some among the knights who would see a shield and decide to charge straight ahead to smash through it, Fanilly was not one of them. So just as how water consumed fire, just as how pillows could withstand what wooden boards could not, slowness could respond better to swiftness.

She didn’t pivot this time.

She stepped inwards, into her foe.

Serenity’s sword arm rose upwards, elbow facing out, as the training weapon aligned with the side of her body. This was not an axe that was being swung, where the pure impact could break bones. This was a sword, versatile and agile, capable of cutting and thrust, but never crushing.

Fanilly’s swing did not strike Serenity’s shield on the side. Her swing instead struck Serenity on the side, blades clacking for the first time in their spar. The impact was felt, but through the padding training vest, it would not leave a bruise.

And now, there was the pivot. The turning of the hips, the extension of her left arm, as the rim of her shield swung towards the Captain’s extended arms while her blade was bound on the opposite side.

It was the philosophy of the Dwarven Shieldragers, whose weapons were hefty enough to supplant shields, whose shields were sharp enough to supplant weapons.