I suddenly sensed sothing was aid at , or rather yet, was already on .
The feeling was a raw, instinctual warning system that went beyond sight or sound, sothing the Domain seed to amplify.
It was a violation of my space, an incoming foreign object.
It entered the range of my domain.
The mont it crossed that invisible threshold, my body was already moving.
My katana, an extension of my will, swept backwards in a fluid, almost casual arc.
There was no ti for a powerful swing, just precise placent.
A loud wood-hit-wood sound resounded, sharp and startling in the training section.
A polished wooden bullet, ant to simulate a sniper's round, dropped to the ground, spinning harmlessly before coming to a rest.
I didn't have ti to process the close call.
My arm moved again, my wrist flicking, deflecting another one that ca from a different angle. Then another.
The impacts were jarring, sending sharp vibrations up my arm.
Each deflection was a calculated minimal movent, my technique guiding my blade, making the impossible parries rely difficult.
I wanted to rush towards the shooter robot, eliminate the long-range threat. But unfortunately, I couldn't.
The mont I was pinned down by the bullets, the five remaining robot dummies seized their chance.
They charged as one, a coordinated wave of synthetic muscle and deadly intent.
They all struck in unison. A horizontal slash at my neck, a thrust at my gut, a low sweep at my legs, an overhead chop, and a jab from the side.
It was a perfect, murderous synchronisation designed to overwhelm any single defender.
But I wasn't just defending. I was defending within my Domain.
My katana beca a blur. I deflected the neck slash outwards, twisted to guide the gut thrust past my hip, dropped my hilt to block the low sweep, raised the blade to et the overhead chop, and sidestepped the jab.
It wasn't five separate blocks; it was one continuous, flowing motion, a dance of deflection where my body and blade were everywhere at once.
Thanks to my domain and the ingrained reflexes of the 'No—Pass' technique, I was able to handle all five weapons.
The air around was a cacophony of sharp cracks and thwacks.
They didn't let up. They continued striking, a relentless storm of programd violence.
And I continued deflecting, my world shrinking to the next incoming attack, the next micro-adjustnt of my blade.
I was a fortress, and they were the endless tide.
Then, suddenly, I began to notice their strikes becoming more faster.
It was incrental at first, a slight increase in the tempo of the impacts.
But it was consistent. They were adapting, learning from my defenses, pushing the limits of their own programming to find a speed I couldn't match.
The pressure mounted. The comfortable rhythm of deflection broke.
I was suddenly getting at a huge disadvantage.
My parries beca more desperate, my footwork less sure.
A slash grazed my shoulder, a sharp sting of impact.
A thrust ca too close, tearing a line in my training shirt.
My speed wasn't able to keep up with the strikes.
I was operating on pure, frantic instinct, the Domain's guidance the only thing keeping from being instantly shuttered.
My instinct suddenly kicked in. This was a losing battle. To stand still was to be worn down and dismantled.
I feigned a block against a high strike, gathered my strength, and instead of eting it, I used the dummy's own forward montum as a springboard.
I leaped back, pushing off hard, and landed a good ten feet away, skidding to a halt on the mat.
My chest heaved, and I could feel a thin sheen of sweat cooling on my skin.
And that's quite a disadvantage. The truth was as cold as the floor beneath .
If my opponent is faster than I am, distance is no sanctuary.
I would be overwheld sooner or later because my speed is less than theirs.
They could close the gap in a heartbeat, and I'd be back in the sa deadly blender, only more tired.
Two of the robots didn't give a mont to breathe.
They dashed at together, their movents a mirror image of coordinated aggression.
As the first one lunged with a thrust, I didn't deflect.
I slashed diagonally across its weapon arm, knocking its blade aside and leaving its chest wide open.
At the exact sa ti, I pivoted on my back foot, my body twisting, and thrust my katana into the second dummy's chest as it tried a horizontal cut.
Two movents, one fluid motion. Both robots seized up and collapsed.
But the reprieve was over in a second. The remaining three, smarter and more cautious, didn't charge blindly.
They started running towards , but in that process, they were spreading themself.
One went left, one went right, one ca straight on.
They were practically rounding . Circling. Hemming in.
Then, they all suddenly dashed to at once.
No more circling, no more testing. This was the final push, a coordinated assault to break my defense.
The air humd with their synchronized movent.
I steadied myself, knees slightly bent, my katana held in a middle guard.
My Domain was a fragile shell around , and my magic power was draining fast.
I was waiting for their attacks, my entire being focused on the split-second decisions to co.
One broke formation, leaping high into the air, its sword held in a wide arc for a devastating downward slash.
It was a telegraphed move, designed to draw my attention upward.
I didn't take the bait fully. I sidestepped the landing zone, and as it began its descent, committed to its attack, I didn't wait for it to land.
I slashed upwards, my wooden katana connecting with its head in mid-air with a sharp crack.
It went limp and crashed to the floor, a puppet with its strings cut.
Then, instantly, I felt two swords enter my domain range.
The sensation was like two cold needles pricking the edges of my awareness.
One was coming from my left, a horizontal slash, and the other from my right, a mirror image.
They had tid it perfectly, attacking my blind spots while I was dealing with the jumper.
Reviews
All reviews (0)