Free Web NovelChapter 228: Landed
The quest was there. The gift was there. And his viewers were watching.
Backing down now would ruin the excitement, and Kyle would most likely regret never using WarHorse’s gift.
Besides, even at his peak, he doubted the outcome would be much different against an opponent of this caliber.
Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his stance and gripped the sword with both hands.
He raised it above his shoulder and lowered his center of gravity.
The air seemed to shift.
The man remained completely unfazed, though there was a glint of anticipation in his eyes. He was curious to see what Kyle would do next.
Kyle didn’t keep him waiting.
He burst forward with three quick steps and swung his blade in a reverse uppercut.
The man’s eyes followed the attack with ease.
CLANG!
His palm struck the flat of the blade, knocking it off course.
But this time, Kyle wasn’t finished.
Using the momentum, he pivoted and drove the pommel of the sword toward the man’s chest.
"Hmm?"
For the first time, the man sounded surprised.
Yet somehow, he caught the attack with his bare hand.
"Not bad," he said with a grin. "You learn quickly."
Kyle didn’t respond.
Rather than struggle in a deadlock, he immediately tried to disengage and create distance.
Unfortunately, the man was already a step ahead.
A sharp kick struck the back of Kyle’s knee.
His leg buckled, forcing him down.
"And here, you’re dead."
The man casually rested an elbow on Kyle’s head as if delivering the final blow.
Kyle gritted his teeth and slipped out of range before retreating several steps.
’How is this happening?’
His heart pounded.
’I’m using God’s Eye. I can see his movements.’
And yet it wasn’t enough.
He could sense every strike before it came, but his body couldn’t keep up.
It was like seeing a storm approach from miles away yet being unable to move before it arrived.
’It’s not that I can’t read him.’
Kyle tightened his grip around the sword.
’He’s simply beyond my limits.’
The man grinned, "You are learning fast. Don’t let your thoughts cloud your motivation." He raised both hands, getting into a fighting stance before roaring, "Come at me, boy!"
Kyle charged again.
This time he didn’t commit to a single swing. He threw a quick jab with the pommel, pulled it back, then slashed low toward the man’s shin.
The man stepped over it.
Kyle was already moving. He rotated his grip and cut upward in a diagonal arc.
CLANG.
The man redirected it with his forearm but the impact made him shift his weight. Just slightly but enough.
Kyle noticed.
He pressed. Short, rapid cuts. Left. Right. Center. Forcing the man to track multiple lines at once instead of one committed blow.
"Better," the man said, retreating half a step.
Kyle’s pulse spiked. That was the first time he had moved backward.
He surged forward and drove the blade toward the man’s ribs.
The man twisted and the sword grazed his side rather than biting in. His hand shot out and closed around Kyle’s wrist before he could recover.
He yanked.
Kyle went airborne for a half second before his back crashed against the floor.
The wind left his lungs in a single hard burst.
"Good pressure. Poor finish."
Kyle rolled before the follow up could come, found his feet, and rose with the sword raised.
His chest heaved. His wrist ached where the man had grabbed him.
But something had shifted.
He could feel it.
Not in the man. In himself.
God’s Eye was no longer just showing him the movements. It was beginning to show him the spaces between them. The tiny windows that opened and closed in fractions of a second.
The man’s left side was marginally slower to guard when he pivoted right. His stance widened when he expected a committed blow, ready to absorb the force.
Kyle filed each observation like a debt he intended to collect.
He attacked again.
A high feint drew the man’s arm up. Kyle dropped the tip and came in low. The man’s knee checked his advance and knocked the wind from his ribs, but Kyle wrapped his free arm around the man’s elbow and used it as an anchor, forcing him to hold position for a full breath.
It was the longest exchange they had made contact.
The man broke it with a headbutt that split Kyle’s focus clean in half.
Kyle stumbled back, vision swimming.
Did he hear the sound of applause?
Was it a chat? His viewers were going absolutely insane.
He wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and breathed.
His legs were burning. His sword arm trembled with accumulated strain. Every exchange had cost him something the man hadn’t even noticed spending.
But he had held on longer each time. He had made the man use more than one movement to end it. He had earned inches where before he had earned nothing.
Kyle’s eyes drifted to the fire lamp mounted low on the wall to his left.
The coal inside glowed orange and hot.
He looked back at the man, who stood relaxed with both hands raised and that insufferable grin spread across his face.
Kyle exhaled slowly.
One last time.
He moved forward at a measured pace and opened with the diagonal cut the man had already seen twice. Predictable. He knew it. He needed the man to know it too. freēwēbηovel.c૦m
The man leaned right to redirect it.
Kyle let the blade follow through, letting the motion carry him in a wide spin. Mid rotation he drove his free hand into the fire lamp, seized a chunk of coal, and hurled it directly at the man’s face.
The grin vanished.
The man’s arm flew up on pure instinct, blocking his own line of sight for less than a second.
Kyle was already there, his footsteps utterly inaudible.
He drove the shoulder of his sword arm into the gap, dropped his weight behind it, and thrust the blade forward.
The tip caught the man squarely in the shoulder and drove him back a full step.
Utter silence befell.
Then the man looked down at the point of contact.
Kyle’s arm was shaking. The coal had burned his palm. He was breathing in ragged pulls.
But he had landed it.
For fuck’s sake.
