As he stood up, Ackster realized that he wouldn't be able to stop the bull if he continued leaning forward so much since he just slid across the soft ground. But he also couldn't be too upright since he wasn't strong enough to resist the bull.
He had to find a balance where the bull would push him into the ground without him sliding backward and plowing a field.
Ackster twisted and dug his feet into the ground in advance to get as much leverage as possible while the bull charged.
His mind cleared itself as everything he saw was the bull and its horns—his handles.
A vision of the bull crashing into him flashed through Ackster's head. Battlesight activated at this critical juncture.
With the help of Battlesight, Ackster finetuned and adjusted his posture to perfectly match the bull's charge.
And when the bull finally collided, Ackster was ready.
His feet didn't move, at least not at first. It was his upper body that bent backward to accommodate the bull's charge. No matter how ready he had been, there was still a limit to what he could do with his physical strength against the bull.
Ackster could feel himself losing strength as his position faltered. But he refused to fall over or budge, even as the bull pushed him backward. Ackster's torso was almost parallel with the ground as his feet scraped into the ground, his heels digging in like anchors to try and stop.
Ackster still refused to let go of the bull's horns or fall to the ground since he knew that would be the end, if not of his life, of his attempt at acquiring Iron Wall. And he could feel that he was at a threshold for the skill, so there was no way he was going to let himself give up. He gritted his teeth and gripped the bull's horns as tightly as his broken hands would let him. No, he gripped tighter than that.
The fractured and broken hands in his hand and wrist ground against each other as he forced his hands closed around the flat, pillar-like horns. The shards of bone dug into the soft tissue of his hands, and blood ran down his forearms.
But his broken hands were the least of Ackster's problems.
He used his grip to haul himself up off the ground, and before the bull could swing its head and toss him away, he repositioned his body. Instead of dragging below the bull's head, it returned to the initial position of trying to block the charge. He threw his feet and legs backward in the bull's path.
The ground crashed into the balls of his feet and tore away what remained of his calluses. It was proof that he held his position. His stance hadn't faltered, even as the muscles in his legs, hips, abdomen, and torso twisted and bulged with strength that surpassed what he was capable of unleashing.
Ackster roared in the bull's face.
The bull didn't want to stop, but it had lost its momentum due to Ackster's stubborn breaking. And once that happened, it was only a matter of time before it could no longer push ahead.
Ackster had left two deep trenches of dirt and grass, stained red with blood, in the bull's path. And it wasn't for nothing. He had stopped the bull. It was just that it had taken all he had and then some. He had used his Strength, Fortitude, Spirit, and Stamina beyond their limits.
Limit Breaker had shown its usefulness and helped Ackster break through his limits. It had helped him stop the bull. And if Ackster's hunch was right, it had also helped him acquire Iron Wall during his first training session.
Limit Breaker had shown its usefulness the first fight after he got it, despite being G-ranked. It was far superior to most of Ackster's other skills, which had only shown a passive effect, even after being at higher ranks.
But Ackster didn't have time to celebrate how great a skill it was that he had gotten his hands on. He had run himself ragged just to stop one of the bull's charges. But the bull wasn't injured in the slightest. It was barely tired.
Even if he had a weapon better than his gauntlets, Ackster wasn't sure he would be able to defeat the bull.
He had gotten himself into lethal trouble once again, and it was up to him and his luck to get out of it. A thought about getting someone strong enough to bail him out of situations like this flashed through his mind before being replaced by a question of the Guild and whether the ones watching him would do it.
But he quickly tossed those thoughts into a mental trashcan. They had no place here. He only had himself to rely on. Otherwise, he would grow complacent and not give his all.
So, instead of hoping something or someone would save him, he took matters into his own hands.
Even if he couldn't defeat the bull in a head-to-head, he could do other things. He didn't even have to kill it. By now, Ackster would be satisfied as long as he survived.
So, he used the bull's frantic upswing of its head and followed along. He didn't let go until he had done almost an entire lap and landed on the bull's back. He quickly turned around and, before the bull could toss him off, shimmied his way up to the bull's neck and grabbed hold tightly.
He was too weak and broken to hold on to the wildly bucking bull while simultaneously trying to attack it. So, he settled for just holding on and hoping he could outlast the bull. Unfortunately, it seemed like a pipe dream. His bloody and broken hands were slipping against the bull's slick fur. And the horns were too thick, especially at the base, which was the only part Ackster could reach, to hold onto.
Only his legs anchored Ackster to the bull as they clamped down on the bull's neck.