I propelled myself off the ground, clutching the hilt of my sword tightly. "Force him out of the circle!" With laser-like focus, Mr. Ridge's unmoving figure became my sole target.
As I neared him, I leaped into the air, landing with a forceful stomp. With a swift motion, I swung the wooden blade of my sword in a sharply descending diagonal arc aimed at Mr. Ridge's right shoulder.
Observing his sword in his left hand, I calculated that he wouldn't easily evade without moving. This realization fueled the momentum of my blade and the certainty of my actions in that fleeting moment.
... Except I was naively wrong.
"That's one," Mr. Ridge uttered. In the next moment, my wooden blade collided with an overwhelmingly opposing force as Mr. Ridge's blade intercepted mine with decisive power mid-air.
His momentum didn't cease there. With a slight adjustment of his arm, he effortlessly diverted the full trajectory of my blade, leaving me unable to react.
My thoughts scrambled as my figure was forcefully expelled from the air, hurtling across the backyard. I hit the ground and rolled, struggling to regain my balance in mere seconds.
In an instant, my initial attack was not only blocked but effortlessly deflected by Mr. Ridge with a single, fluid movement of his arm.
I steadied myself, using the tip of my wooden sword as support. In the background, I heard Leon let out a sigh of lamentation.
"Reo! Are you okay?!" Don and the others' voices carried concern and worry as they watched the one-sided exchange.
Turning to them, I managed a half-reassuring smile. "I'm... alright," I replied, though internally, panic surged. 'What the hell was that?!' I thought. 'That force was enough to hurl me halfway across the backyard!'
With a frown, I glanced at Mr. Ridge, who remained eerily still, his stoic expression unchanged as he stood with his wooden sword resting casually before him.
I glanced at my trembling arms, realizing the sheer power behind Mr. Ridge's block. In that moment, I had no opportunity to retaliate; I was completely dominated by his strength, a sensation I hadn't felt since my reincarnation.
As I stood there, I had to reassess the difficulty of my task. "Okay, so maybe forcing him out of the circle won't be as easy as I thought," I admitted to myself. "But I knew that."
I never expected to land a hit or make Mr. Ridge budge so easily anyway. His taunting question only confirmed my thoughts. "What? Giving up already, young Reo?" Mr. Ridge beckoned, a hint of a taunting smile playing on his lips.
My left brow twitched in irritation, and I sighed, acknowledging the challenge ahead.
"No, not yet. I'm just getting started," I declared with determination, retrieving my sword from the ground and assessing it in my hands.
After a few moments to steady my grip and let my hands recover, I resolved to make another attempt at forcing Mr. Ridge to move. Adjusting my strategy, I realized that straightforward attacks wouldn't work; I needed to mask my intentions to catch him off guard.
With renewed focus, I raised my wooden sword and assumed a stance, charging forward once more. 'Open and honest attacks won't work,' my thoughts raced comparing my initial mannerism of attack, 'I need to be more strategic.' Redirecting the point of my blade to my right side, I aimed it diagonally towards the ground, lowering my center of gravity to maximize momentum within the short distance.
In close proximity, I abruptly halted my charge, twisting my upper body while pivoting on my forward right foot. Gripping my sword tightly in both hands, I dragged the wooden blade against the ground, harnessing the momentum I had gathered. With the force generated by my twisted torso, I unleashed a massive wingspan swing, akin to a tightly pressed spring releasing its energy.
Though the movement wasn't executed flawlessly due to a numbing different factors, I felt a strain in my waist and lower back. Nevertheless, the unleashed speed and power were incredible as my blade soared forward in a wide ascending diagonal swing.
As I glanced sideways, I noticed Mr. Ridge's left arm moving, signaling his attempt to block my sword. Mentally preparing for the challenge ahead, I braced myself for the next sequence of moves. Just as Mr. Ridge raised his sword to deflect my attack, I made a swift adjustment, altering the trajectory of my sword slightly to avoid a direct clash.
With only a hair's breadth to spare, our blades narrowly missed each other. Momentarily perplexed, Mr. Ridge had little time to react as a wave of dirt, sand, and dust, deliberately kicked up by my wooden blade, followed the path of my sword, striking his face and eyes. Seizing the moment, I utilized the momentum from my previous rotation to spin my body around and swiftly lower myself to the ground.
"This is it!" I thought determinedly, bracing myself with my hands on the ground. From the outset, I never intended to engage Mr. Ridge head-on. The initial charge was merely a facade, serving to build up momentum for my true strategy. As I swept my sword through the dirt, creating a distraction with sand and dust, I focused on my real objective: his legs.
With Mr. Ridge momentarily disoriented by the debris in his eyes, I capitalized on the last remnants of my rotational energy to sweep out my left leg, aiming for his unprotected lower half.
The plan was straightforward:
'If I can't somehow bait him to move, I'll just have to force him instead! '
It was that simple.
...And I'm not sure why I keep doing this to myself, except it wasn't that simple.
"That's two," Mr. Ridge monotoned from above.
My eyes widened in confusion. "What?"
It was only then that I felt a sharp, throbbing pain shoot up my shin. I realized my attempt had failed when I collided with a wooden sword firmly planted in the ground—a detail I hadn't noticed before.
I blinked in disbelief. "How?"
As I glanced up, I saw Mr. Ridge calmly staring back at me, his fingers tightly gripping the hilt of his wooden sword, which remained steadfastly rooted in the ground like an immovable pole.
Despite his face being smeared with sand and dirt, the solemn old man maintained his measured gaze and expression.
"Not a half bad idea, throwing dirt in my face as a distraction. I'll admit, I didn't entirely see that coming," he complimented with a measured smile.
Mr. Ridge's words barely registered as my mind grappled with the sudden shift in the situation.
Nevertheless, I withdrew my leg and cautiously stepped back a few feet, keeping a wary eye on the old man.
Noticing my vigilance, Mr. Ridge's smile widened slightly as he lifted his sword from the ground and rested it against his shoulder.
"Whoa. Reo fights dirty," I heard Kyle mutter, echoing the sentiments of the others.
Mr. Ridge chuckled mildly.
"It was a roughly executed plan, but regardless of whether it would have truly swept me off my feet under different circumstances," he chuckled again, "if the attack had connected, then it would also be safe to say you won."
It was a reasonably well-thought-out plan, if I do say so myself. Despite the initial outcome, whether I would have succeeded in throwing Mr. Ridge off his feet or not, if my leg had made contact, it could still be considered a successful blow in the end, securing my victory in this spar.
"And yet, it still failed," I clicked my tongue, exasperated.
I couldn't fathom how Mr. Ridge had managed to block my attempt at the last second.
"Now my shin really hurts!"
"See," Leon sighed once more, "My dad isn't just an average guard. I've been at it for a few weeks now, far longer than any of you could imagine, and not even I have been able to land a decent blow on him."
"Jeez, thanks for the vote of confidence," I shot Leon a strange glance from my side.
Mr. Ridge chuckled at Leon's comment and reveal, lowering his sword as he directed the tip towards me, a broad grin visible underneath his beard.
"I've successfully blocked and parried two of your attacks, while you have yet to land a single clean blow or force me to move from my spot. Young Reo, do you finally admit defeat?"
I frowned slightly at his words. "That's the second time you've said that now. What? It almost sounds like you're trying to crush my resolve," I said, smiling as I accepted the underlying challenge.
Taking a single step forward, I raised my sword and positioned it before me. My smile faded, replaced by a tense gaze directed at the stoic old man across from me.
"I already told you," I flexed my neck and shoulder, relieving the stress and strain from my previous exchanges for flexibility. The joints echoed in unison with a pop.
"I'm just getting started."
With that declaration, I assumed my stance.