The gentle wind nipped at your face bitterly, the leaves rustling above you as the setting sun peeked through the trees.

You heard the swift movements of a blade against the air, whipping back and forth between strikes.

It was Yasuo, of course it was. If there was one thing that kept him thriving, it was his training.

His swings were as light as the breeze, but strong like an ox. If there were to be enemies surrounding him, they would surely be pierced in mere seconds.