Chapter 315: Final Fight, Second Half
I won’t pretend, it was a tempting invitation. The way he so deliberately tipped the scales in my favor, drastically doubling my chances of winning... suddenly the prospect of going on the offense didn’t seem so daunting.
But that’s exactly what makes it all the more a precarious venture. Because if I were in his shoes, if I was the cocky handsome rich boy that he was, I’d tell myself that two times zero was still zero.
Still, I couldn’t just sit on the fence forever – that’s what landed me in this predicament in the first place – had to do something, and what better time was there than right now?
I didn’t say anything, didn’t even give any indication that I was doing anything... that’s when I shot forward, lunged an arm, and drove my sword straight at him. A simple thrust, a simple test.
Even with the blanket of surprise veiling my actions, Leon saw through it still and reacted just like I thought he would – he moved just slightly, I missed just slightly – and responded back, hurtling his sword into mine.
If I hadn’t already been anticipating it, he would have hit. I wouldn’t be here now, backing a significant distance away.
“Come now, what was that?” Leon walked forward, flailing his sword, his other arm still kept away from sight. “That was barely a hit.”
.....
“Well Leon, feel free to stand completely still. If you had back then, then there’s your hit.”
He chuckled at that, stopping just short. “I never said I’m just gonna hand you over the victory. If you wanna win, fight to win. So far all I’ve been seeing from you is just – ”
Leon never got to finish, on account of me suddenly spurring towards him once more, not that I was even relishing hearing what he had to say. This time I nearly got him. A blow to his left shoulder very nearly colliding if not for his sword soaring upwards to deflect it in just the nick of time.
He barely could defend for that one – so how about for the next one? I tested the waters a little more, ’cause unlike him, I had both arms free. I shifted my whole weight, threw my whole self, concentrating all that momentum in one big potent shove that sent my shield bashing against the entire surface of his chest plate.
That’s the one that did it, the one hit that disperse a clangor aloud in reverberating echoes. It was a moment that lasted but brief, but it was also a moment pivotal. For the first time, there was finally something that came out of his lips that were music to my ears...
A quiet raspy grunt.
Leon staggered back a few paces. Surprise a fleeting flicker in his eyes as he held them up, faced them straight, gazing back at me at a distance. It was a solid hit, and up above from the uproarious clamouring all around... nobody seemed to disagree with that assessment.
Not even Leon himself.
“Now that’s more like it,” He said, expelling out a heavy, ready breath. “That’s the show they’re looking for.”
Undaunted, undismayed, the golden boy of the land kept his lips smiling wide, and the tip of his sword gleaming upright. “Let’s show them more of that, shall we?”
His charge was as fast, as sudden as ever – a golden blur in the wind – but this time, I was meeting him halfway with a charge of my own. He swung his, I braced mine, the hard thunk of plastic reverberated through our fingers as our swords met one another.
We separated briefly, clashed again just as swiftly – I realized staying on the defense just gives him time to poke the cracks and crevices for an opening to crumble it all from within. It already happened once, I won’t let it happen twice.
In order to avoid that, I needed to be just as aggressive, just as bold to prod and poke, and without a shield, there were a lot of holes to thrust and plunge into.
Yet in spite of this fatal handicap of his, Leon was keeping up, at times, even gaining the upper hand. Those times, when my shield wasn’t raised, when my sword missed its strike – there was little I could do to recover – those times, his hard blows firmly told, that that shield of his was purely just for show.
The way he moved his body, the twirls, the spins, the light spring in his feet, he was practically having a waltz amidst the flurry of blades... and then, there was me, the swordsmen with two left feet, only scraping by with the clunkiest of movement.
This wasn’t like fighting Bob. Bob was easy to read, even easier to adapt to. When your opponent hasn’t a clue what he’s doing himself, it means you can control exactly what he’ll do next.
Here, it was different. Leon knew his moves three steps ahead, even on a whim, changing it on the fly – it was to the point where there was nothing to read, nothing to adapt to.
When he attacked, it took everything I had to shield it, dodge it, anything I could to not get hit by it. But when it came for my time to strike, matters not how fast, how hard I hit – he’d redirect my blows to the dirt, to the air, to everywhere but him.
That sword doubled as his shield. He both had a solid defense and offense. I admit it, it felt seriously demeaning getting bested by a guy not even utilizing half his upper limbs in order to do so... and how it seemed so easy for him, seamless – a walk in the park – while I was over here scaling the steepest hill.
I’m ashamed to say that I was also losing my calm... and I was acutely aware that I was, as was he. Leon was slowly, gradually, whittling the focus down in me. He wanted me unhinged, unraveled... and fuck, even though I knew it, I couldn’t help it.
Not with his smile always there, the silent taunts in his leveled gaze – there were like the chisel and mallet to the crumbling stone that was my composure. I could hear myself expelling growls with every strike after, hastily expending more energy in my swings than what was necessary... and yet it did nothing to alleviate matters, to placate the rapidly rising anger...
Because his fucking smirk was still staring right at me.
“You’re getting better at swinging that sword. I’m surprised,” He said as my blade crossed against his. “You’re almost a natural. With proper training, you could be something else.”
“You offering something?” I asked, my jaw aching from how hard I was clenching. “Suggesting something?”
“I could show you a thing or two,” He said, calmly staring down my scowl. “After this, that is. If you’d like.”
I forced him back, impelling myself back in the process. “No thanks. Not from you, at least.”
“That’s a shame...” A dejected sigh, a raised brow, and his baby-blue eyes so riddled in ridicule. “Because it looks like you certainly do need it now.”
The bastard was doing the same thing as what I did to Bob. Riling me up, taunting me. Monkey see, monkey do, apparently...
Well, it wasn’t going to work. Not anymore, at least. Because like everyone else, Leon had a tell.
My aching, battered self... I did not sustained all those blows for nothing. Should have been obvious from the get-go, but... it seems Leon loves to feel in control of everything... including his opponent.
Signs were already there, the indents in the sand, how his previous contender kept falling, whilst he remained standing... he made him fall.
That’s why my sword always wound up missing – not cause I swung it wrong, not that I wasn’t fast enough – the reason it missed was because he was making it miss, averting that momentum elsewhere and making it his.
So, here’s what I’m thinking. The next time I swing, the next time I miss – when he tries to usurp that strike... why don’t I just let him have it? At this point, anything was worth a try.
I feigned annoyance, made him think I fell for his jeers... and in a blink, I was hurling myself towards once again. Like everything else, it was a precarious affair... so I played it safe.
A simple thrust. A simple test.
Leon reacted almost immediately. He moved just slightly, and I missed just slightly... and responded back, dropping the edge of his sword into mine.
It worked.
I didn’t pull back this time, didn’t even attempt to dodge it. When his blade struck mine down to the dirt, I instantly loosened my hold and let it drop – only moments to seize the chance – with my now free hand, I balled it, gripped it, – I swung my fist as hard as I could.
The way his smile almost seemed to just vanish, how his calm turned to shock – he saw already in the past what I could do with just a punch, and his eyes reflected back that glimmer of terror, as my fist soared within centimeters of his face... millimeters, so very nearly there.
Then I felt my fist abruptly stop – colliding hard with something narrow, something hard- that split-second before contact, Leon raised his sword and braced it firm, suspending my attack only barely.
All in all, it was a foiled attempt. By all accounts, I should be even more incensed, more enraged by a failure that shouldn’t have been. I would have been... but I wasn’t.
Because in order to block that attack, Leon had to go back on one of his bold, brazen confident claims... and now his sword quivered and trembled, bending slightly in the middle, under the might of my fist – with both his hands now gripping tight on either end.
“Would you look at that? It seems you found your other arm,” Right then, I felt it only just to form a smirk of my own. “Guess you needed that, after all...”
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