"Today, we will spar again," declared Yato.
"Again?" I frowned in displeasure.
We have been engaging in sparring sessions almost every single day since we ca to this place.
Though I learned so many things from sparring against him, his skills are on a completely different level than mine.
Fighting him feels like trying to climb a wall that I know I can't ever climb in a lifeti.
Going against him, I couldn't help but feel inferior. And I'm not good at dealing with inferiority complexes since I don't feel it much.
Maybe Yato noticed my thoughts as he let out a sigh and said, "I can see you don't like losing much, but as I've said before, martial arts can only be honed in combat."
…I guess he has a point.
"Alright," I relented. "Let's get started then."
"Good," Yato nodded. "And don't worry, I will go easy on you this ti."
'Like that, you went easy on before.' I remarked inside of my head and followed Yato outside to take another beating from him.
The mountain air felt colder as we stepped outside, and the ground was covered in a thin layer of snow. Yato, ever composed, assud a stance with his black sword at the ready.
I readied my sword, taking a deep breath to focus my mind. The spar began, and Yato's movents were a blur as he effortlessly countered my strikes.
Despite knowing that he was going easy on , it was still a struggle to keep up. Each swing of his sword felt like a lesson in humility, a reminder of the vast gap in our skills.
"Haaah!" I lunged forward, attempting a series of quick strikes. Yato parried effortlessly and countered with a precise move that left off balance.
He stepped back, giving a mont to recover. "Lucas, your attacks lack conviction. You hesitate, and that hesitation becos a weakness."
I nodded, absorbing his feedback. It was true; there was a lingering doubt in my strikes. Perhaps it stemd from my awareness of the vast difference in our abilities.
"Again!" Yato's voice cut through the quiet mountain air, and the spar continued. I focused on implenting his advice, attempting to infuse my attacks with more certainty.
15 minutes later…
Thwack—!!
A forceful kick slamd into my chest, propelling back in the air until I collided with the ground, tumbling and rolling before coming to a halt.
"F-Freaking hell," I stamred, cursing softly under my breath.
I gathered myself and rose to my feet, directing my gaze towards Yato. "I will go easy on you this ti, my ass!"
Yato stifled a chuckle, his tone filled with amusent. "Believe , this is going easy."
I rolled my eyes, frustration building within .
Gathering my strength, I charged forward with my sword poised for an attack.
As soon as I closed the distance between us, with swift precision, I swung my sword towards Yato.
Cling—!!
However, Yatoo effortlessly deflected my assault with his sword, skillfully pushing onto my back foot.
"Arghh!"
Gritting my teeth, without missing a beat, I launched a rapid succession of sword swings at Yato
Cling, Cling, Cling—!!
But once again, Yato deftly parried every one of my strikes, relentlessly forcing backwards.
Despite my determined efforts, Yato's expertise proved insurmountable. Each party felt like a calculated dance, and I found myself caught in a relentless storm of precise counterattacks.
Sweat dripped down my face as I struggled to maintain my composure. Yato's movents were a symphony of efficiency, his sword a seamless extension of his will.
"Your form is good, Lucas, but you need to anticipate," Yato advised, his voice calm amid the clash of blades.
I nodded, absorbing his guidance, but frustration lingered. Anticipation felt like an elusive skill, a distant goal that remained just out of reach.
As the spar continued, Yato's strikes beca more intricate. He seamlessly weaved between offence and defence, leaving with little room to react. Each ti I thought I saw an opening, it closed faster than I could exploit it.
Thwack—!!
A swift strike to my side sent stumbling. I gritted my teeth, refusing to succumb to the mounting weariness.
Yato paused, sensing my exhaustion. "Rember, Lucas, combat is not just about physical prowess. It's a ntal dance. Predict your opponent's moves, and you'll find the openings you seek."
His words resonated with , and I refocused my energy. The mountain wind carried the echoes of our clashing blades, a testant to the ongoing struggle between student and ntor.
With newfound determination, I adjusted my stance, attempting to anticipate Yato's movents. As he lunged forward, I side-stepped, narrowly avoiding his attack. Encouraged by this small victory, I counterattacked with a quick succession of strikes.
Cling, Cling, Cling—!!
Our swords exchanged with each other a few tis but I'm sure that he intentionally let strike, if he wanted he would defeated hundreds of tis in these monts.
"Tsk!" Frustrated, I clicked my tongue.
Fwoosh—!
To make so breathing space, I hopped a few steps back to safety. I refused to get kicked by him again.
And I can't keep on attacking him blindly.
I need to devise a strategy to gain an advantage, even if victory against him seems to be elusive– far from my reach.
I have to find a way to seize the upper hand.
Alright, let's calm down and think. There has to be sothing I can use on him.
Yato stood poised, his sword at the ready, calm and collected aura surrounding him.
Anticipation, he emphasized. If I could predict his moves, and find the rhythm in our dance of blades, perhaps I could turn the tide in my favor.
I analyzed Yato's movents, searching for patterns or subtle cues. He advanced with asured steps, each strike calculated. The snow-covered ground beneath us served as a canvas for our duel, a silent witness to the struggle between ntor and student.
"Alright, Yato," I muttered to myself, narrowing my focus. "Let's see if I can catch a glimpse of your next move."
As Yato approached, I steadied my stance, determined to break free from the cycle of being forced on the defensive. I took a calculated step to the side, attempting to preempt his strike.
Cling—!!
Success! I managed to deflect his attack, surprising even myself. A spark of confidence ignited within .
Yato's eyes glead with approval. "Good, Lucas. You're beginning to grasp it."
A small smirk cos to my face.
"However, you are too immature if you think you can defeat right now," Yato said the next mont as my eyes widened in surprise.
Swoosh—!!
"...?!"
Before I could understand my current situation Yato appeared before out of thin air!
My eyes widened in disbelief as he unleashed a powerful horizontal slash with his sword, aid directly at .
Thwoosh—!!!
Reacting quickly, I raised my sword to block his attack, but the sheer force behind his strike flung in the air, tumbling to the side.
Performing a mid-air backflip, I managed to land on my feet, stumbling a few steps before regaining my stance.
I looked back at Yato in front of , my eyes still widened in shock.
Swish—!!
In an instant, Yato appeared before once again, his presence both startling and disorienting.
"You think too much," he stated plainly.
"...?!"
Before I could even react, he thrashed his knee into my abdon, causing to crumple to my knees.
Consud by intense pain, I started to cough fitfully.
"Khuuk! Khuaaaak!!"
Observing my agonized state, Yato tossed a healing potion in my direction and took a step back.
As he moved away, he began to speak.
"Your mind is cluttered with strategies, endless possibilities, and tactics. To anticipate, you must clear your thoughts and feel the flow of combat," Yato explained, his voice calm amidst the aftermath of our intense clash.
Still recovering from the impact, I reached for the healing potion, hastily downing it to ease the pain in my abdon. Yato's words echoed in my mind, urging to reassess my approach to combat.
As the healing potion took effect, I pushed myself back up, focusing on Yato's teachings. Clearing my mind, I sought to feel the rhythm of our duel rather than overthinking every move.
Yato observed my efforts with a discerning gaze. "Combat is a dance, Lucas. Let the movents guide you, trust your instincts, and you'll find the openings you seek."
Nodding in acknowledgnt, I reset my stance, ready for the spar to continue. Yato, ever composed, resud his position, the black sword gleaming in the cold mountain air.
The clash resud, but this ti, I approached it with a newfound mindset. Instead of getting lost in the myriad of strategies, I focused on the ebb and flow of our movents.
"Haaah!" I lunged forward with renewed determination, my strikes becoming more fluid. Yato countered with precise moves, his blade a symphony of calculated strikes and effortless blocks.
As we exchanged blows, I felt a shift in the atmosphere. The spar transford into a more synchronized exchange, our blades eting and parting in a harmonious rhythm. Yato's nod of approval hinted at progress.
The mountain wind carried the echoes of our duel, a testant to the evolving dynamics between us. The snow-covered ground beneath us bore witness to the struggle, our footprints marking the dance of combat.
Minutes turned into monts, and the spar approached its conclusion. Yato, with a subtle smile, delivered a final strike that I barely managed to block. The clash lingered for a brief mont before he stepped back.
"Well done, Lucas. You've shown improvent," Yato comnded, his expression conveying both satisfaction and encouragent.
Panting, I acknowledged his words, grateful for the guidance that pushed to evolve in the art of combat.
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