[h3]Guts - The School[/h3]
 
[i]Tracing.[/i] That was the word. That was the cue. Guts hadn't been tracked since his run-in with that Holy Army, but the church hired no mages. This was no doubt the machinations of Griffith, and that meant this girl was an enemy.

Gritting his teeth, Guts rushed forward, his pupil shrinking as his hands clamped down over the Dragonslayer's hilt. Several hundred pounds of metal swung all at once in a deadly arc, cleaving through the pyromancer's waist. Just as quickly, Guts's heels dug into the concrete, and the blade swung around the Black Swordsman's head before coming back down, slicing through the pick, and the girl's head and shoulder.