Chapter 56: Chapter 56: Over and Over
(Unedited Chapter)
***
I shot forward, brandishing my wooden blade. I had no real experience with a sword, so it was safe to say I had no manner of flashy sword tricks or skills to somehow bypass Mr. Ridge's seemingly unbreakable defense, or fancy footwork that could help me force my opponent to move, if even by a single step.
All I could do, was rush forward.
But that didn't mean I stopped thinking or looking for possible opportunities or ideas to force a win. Giving voice to a small cry, I leaped into the air, and repositioned the wooden blade in my hands, prepared to unleash a flurry of random attacks.
'I'll just have to overwhelm him with sheer power and number of attacks!' I thought, almost desperately.
I mean, he can't possibly block every single one of them, without moving, no less, right?
...right?
The wooden blade of my sword, drew a flurry of random crescent arcs across the air. Mr. Ridge simply moved his head and shoulders slightly, effortlessly evading the first wave without breaking a sweat.
My momentum depleted, I eventually fell back to the ground, and used the moment to retreat once more, taking consideration to a more effective attack pattern.
"Tsk." I clicked my tongue under my breath.
'I just have to go faster and unleash more wider swings. I don't need technique or tricks to actually win.' I persisted in futility.
I marched the ground and shot forward once more. Jumping form side to side, i swung my blade, drawing arcs across the air. The futility of this attempt was evident every moment Mr. Ridge moved his head, narrowly evading my attacks, seemingly easily.
"Hmm. Giving the record of your past attempts, I must admit, I'm quite curious to see what new plan to landing a hit or forcing me to move is behind all of this chaotic swings." Mr. Ridge commented curiously, passively evading the tip of my blade by raising his chin at the right moment.
"It can't possibly be you're just hoping to overwhelm me with a sheer number of random unreadable attacks, could it?"
Hearing that, I coughed, barely hiding the embarrassment at that excellently deduced statement from my expression.
I stopped my attack and jumped back to revise my plan.
'Crap, he nearly saw through me!'
"Young Reo," — Mr. Ridge said — "have you held a sword before?" The sudden question forced me to raise my head in a silent question.
"I have no real experience with the sword." — I admitted openly.
It was the truth. It was also true that after the incident, I had turned to Cliff to learn the sword underneath his tutelage, but even then, one of the conditions was for me to me to do some body mass work out and muscle development. So for most of the weeks I remained at home, i developed most of my time towards routine workouts and exercises.
When I wasn't reading in bed, I was adding a few muscle pounds instead.
At first I sought out the purpose of doing this and why I hadn't jumped straight into swinging a sword right away, as I already contained far more strength and stamina than the little size of my body gave away. But it wasn't like Cliff would know that. But in the end I had to understand, just had more strength than my peers, and the workouts would help to adequately shape and mould my muscles for the maximum capabilities of my power.
"But... I've had a few practice swings sessions with my father in the recent weeks though." I shrugged.
'Yeah...a few thousand practice swings!' It turns out Cliff wasn't one to give sympathy of you were his son. My muscle building weeks were later followed by actual sword practices.
No, that's a lie.
I just repeatedly swung horizontally over a hundred times on end every morning, tied down with sand bags from all possible parts of my body.
My muscles cried out in sore protest each day as a result. I was even tempted this once to tell off to Layla.
Mr. Ridge silently lingered after my reply, his eyes held a silent contemplation, a hint of intrigue.
"I noticed your swings had a certain power and directions to them. They're sloppy and honestly leave a lot to be desired, but the generally have the form and power behind them." Mr. Ridge commented, than raised a finger at me.
"The stance you pick up whenever you're about to charge forth is one of the most basic forms, but you're endlessly abusing it right now. Judging from the stance as well, I'm willing to guess that you've only ever practiced horizontal swings over and over before; that's because the stance mostly applies to that form of training. It wasn't developed for charging forth or executing most any other types of swings, and that's what you e been doing all this while." Mr. Ridge fluently analysed, leaving me honestly dumbfounded and confused.
"Judging form you're expression, I guess I'm right?" He grinned.
I sighed.
"Stop using the stance to charge forward, and instead use it to bring out the full potential of your swing. It might just be one of the most basic sword stance for beginners, but I've felt the power behind one of you're concentrated swing," —saying this, Mr. Ridge paused and his gaze redirected toward his left arm. Clenching the sword in it, he grinned and looked up at me. "And that's you're best shot."
Taking notes of all the extra points provided by Mr. Ridge, I limited myself to a measured nod and charged forward once more time.
All that said...
'I still can't landing a single hit-!!'
Mr. Ridge only continued to evade each of my attacks, while I only continued to unleash fiercer and more wider swings. With each passing second, my blood continued to rile.
"What...!"
I swung my sword repeatedly, drawing ferocious arcs and swings.
'Why...!
Left, right, ; horizontal, diagonal; my wooden blade ripped through the air, unleashing a flurry of relentless swings from all possible directions. Mr. Ridge merely moved his head, evading every single one effortlessly.
Slowly, I felt mocked.
Seizing my attacks for a moment I jumped back and shot a frown towards my opponent.
"Are you... mocking me?" I frowned.
Mr. Ridge remained quiet then evenly said.
"I don't know what you mean."
"...All this while, you've only dodged every single one of my attacks without moving, even. You never raised your sword to block one, despite knowing this'll all be over once you parry my attack just once more." I complained, irritation barely restrained in my voice.
It was strangely annoying. I wasn't sure why I was getting all worked up about this. For a while now, Mr. Ridge has only made effort to evade my attacks.
Mr. Ridge remained utterly still and quiet and seemingly unfazed by nothing. At some point, I lingered for some sort of reply or answer, but the latter remained unresponsive.
That, of course, was until he said:
"Oh, that," his shoulders shrugged slightly — "I just did not feel the need to."
Then something nearly snapped inside of me.
'Yeah, he's definitely toying with me." I heaved a mental helpless sigh.
I sighed then raised my head.
"I see." I uttered.
"Then I'll take your advice."
"Hm? Have you finally decided to give up?" Mr. Ridge asked, a taunting grin playing on the edges of his lips.
Taking my first step forward, I casually walked up to my opponent, the hilt of my wooden sword trembled just slightly in my hands while I gritted my teeth.
"No...the other one." Standing just before Mr. Ridge now, raising my wooden blade, I grabbed the hilt tightly with both my hands in a natural stance.
"Very well." I uttered with a measured breath, and closed my eyes for a brief moment. I took in a deep breath, spreading it through my lungs and lifted the positions of my shoulders just slightly. I shifted on my feet, spreading my legs by only a few centimeters, prepping into my desired stance and raised my sword slightly higher before me. On the other side of my blade was Mr. Ridge, who remained still and unresponsive to all of my actions.
"Uhm...what exactly is Reo doing?" Don said, watching from the side line along with the others. "He's not asleep on his feet is he?"
Mr. Ridge was very right. Up until now I had mostly ever practiced horizontal swings all day everyday. And since it was all that Cliff was insistent on teaching me at the moment, I took it a step further to go at the same practice each time I could. I repeated the same sets of moves over and over again, countlessly till my arms ached and the muscles in them screamed out in opposition.
A hundred times,two hundred times — a thousand times, my wooden blade split apart the air desperately, fueled by ever burning desire, channeled with my emotions. Anger, agony, sadness, fear, pain, hunger, thirst, disgust, hate, all of it.
Over a thousand times I took the same stance each day, every day. The position, the proper distribution of weight and gravity — the balance, repeating the same set of moves over and over, this action, unknowingly to me, had been deeply registered into muscle memory. Even to the point whenever I held a sword, almost as a default setting, I quickly and subconsciously fall into that stance.
The same stance, this time around, I intentionally let my body flow into, well aware and conscious of my actions.
Registering a deep and measured breath through my lungs, my concentration was at a needle point, the weight of the blade held and balanced tightly in my arms.
Giving one finally huff, I opened my eyes.
"Guard." I warned.
I raised my sword and reinforced my stance. Lowering my body I channeled the strength from my legs and arms and repeated the same set of motion I had been doing for the past few weeks.
And for the umpteenth time, I drew my sword through the air.
A small cry escaped my lips. Every other sensation blocked out; noise, smell, hearing, everything. My wooden blade cut a devastating horizontal arc with viscious speed, the power in my arms, heavy and ruthless.
"Haa!" It was a simple swing. A basic swing, a simple action, but one repeated over dozens of times and concentrated with every fiber of strength I could muster.
This was my last attack. My final attempt with everything I've got.
The air whistled, the wooden blade cutting through like a knife through a piece of thin cloth. My sword descended, and upon the final moment, the very last second, Mr. Ridge moved.
His wooden blade, like a blur, raised defensively in opposition. The sound of wood clashing against each other reverberated with a certain bang. The force of impact sufficient and powerful enough enough to force the surface dirt apart.
'I'm...not done yet!' Firmly and resolutely, Mr. Ridge and I both held our ground, with no sign of backing off or letting up. My blade might have been stopped powerfully in mid-air, but I wasn't done yet.
I pushed down on my hilt, the muscles all over my arms and body tensed underneath my clothes. The fibers comprising of muscles threatened to rip apart as I stubbornly forced my blade to move forward against Mr. Ridge.
And for a very short moment, it worked. Forcing his hand, I pushed back his sword just slightly. A small sign of strain and tension flickered in his eyes, and for a very short moment of respite, I realized something.
'I can win this.'
But all wishful thinking was thrown out the window the moment, Mr. Ridge simply lowered his stance by a margin and I was simply overwhelmed the next moment.
***
ANNOUNCEMENT:
A Certain Magical Reincarnation is finally contracted! I wish to thank those of you that have supported me this far and continued to read with me. I apologize for the verbal errors in today's chapter, as I was late to edit it, and i hope it did not hinder your reading so much.
Since the book has been contracted, concerning what to do from now on, chapter release will continue as usual, this also means they will be free and accessible for the rest of the month, at least. Locked chapters will be announced a week before their release, when I'm ready to so, no worries.
I wish you will continue to show your support; please vote and add to your collections. Also, drop comments and reviews l, as we're lacking in that area. Thank you, and see you tomorrow.
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