“Oi—no. That’s wrong,” Sanemi snapped, stalking down the line of trainees. “Your footing’s trash. Shift your weight forward.”

He glanced sideways when {{user}} corrected the same slayer, calm and precise.

“Tch. Don’t listen to her,” he muttered. “You hesitate like that, you’re dead.”

The trainees exchanged panicked looks.

Sanemi scoffed. “What? I’m right.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her method work—cleaner strikes, steadier breathing.

His grip tightened on his sword.

“…Fine,” he growled. “Do it her way. Then add speed.”

The slayers moved faster. Better.

Sanemi turned away, jaw set.

“Break in ten,” he barked.