Swoosh!
Ichor tilted his head as the wind whistled, a thin cut mark appearing on his cheek. Grim's fist hadn't even touched him, yet it left a mark.
He leaned in, pushing off his right foot and stepping aside just as Grim attempted to close in.
Ichor's hand moved with amazing dexterity, his sword strike undergoing three changes before finally settling on puncturing Grim's throat.
Grim immediately stepped back, his footwork light and bouncy, moving with agility that was shocking for someone of his size.
His body was compact, his muscles primed, and his body always in motion. His movements were on a whole other level than Ichor's.
He punched out twice in quick succession, his fist immediately returning to guard his face, his most vulnerable opening. One fist parried Ichor's attack, while the other was a quick jab that barely missed him.
Ichor retreated once more, his eyes entirely focused. The battle was now at its climax, and neither fighter had the luxury of any unnecessary thoughts.
They danced around the hall, each trying to land a deadly hit but neither succeeding.
Yet, it was obvious that Grim had the upper hand.
"Grim is really good. It's surprising that he's also a cadet like us. I don't think Ichor will win," Marceline commented, a repulsed expression on her face as she watched the fight. Yvonne glanced in her direction, subtly agreeing with her.
"He doesn't have to win. He just has to last long enough," Zandov replied.
"Do you really think lasting is what's on his mind?" Lassen asked.
Zandov furrowed his brow but didn't say anything else. He knew Lassen was right. Although he barely knew Ichor, it could be said that he knew Ichor more than he knew anyone else.
There was a saying that one could know a man's heart from how he fought; Ichor fought like a warrior, one who never thought of losing.
"He's at a serious disadvantage. He has skills, but he seems to be lacking something," Irene said, watching the fight with a focused gaze, trying to glean as much as she could from the two fighters.
"Footwork."
Zandov looked at Percy, his brows raised. "Footwork?"
"Yes." Percy's gaze remained on the battle. Unlike the others, who were watching to understand the combat prowess of the two fighters, he was watching to understand the distance he needed to catch up to as soon as possible.
To him, the spectacle in the ring was just a starting point. He believed he had to get there before he could really consider himself a cadet, and he was sure he would.
All I need is time…
Percy's eyes narrowed as he continued speaking, "In martial arts, there are three major parts to techniques: the breathing, the footwork, and the forms or the main technique itself. While it's possible to use them individually, it will never be as good as when using them as a whole."
"But Grim doesn't know martial arts," Zandov commented. He had guessed as much from hearing Sal's promise.
"He doesn't. But he has developed good footwork for himself, while Ichor doesn't seem to have one, or he isn't using it."
Even Percy couldn't say with assurance that Ichor didn't know any footwork; this was because just when he thought he had a read on him, Ichor always managed to pull out another surprise.
"I see."
"Yes. At this point, Ichor is a very powerful but stagnant weapon, and Grim has all the space in the ring to play around."
Ichor ducked as another one of Grim's fists whistled past his head. His knees bent, and he shot out, closing the distance immediately.
Grim recalled his fist immediately, the other one, which had been guarding his face, shooting out at Ichor's head.
Ichor's hand moved, his black wooden blade parrying the fist. Immediately, he linked his next attack, twisting his blade before piercing towards Grim's eyes.
Grim's feet lifted off the floor as he moved aside, sending two punches at Ichor. Ichor suddenly withdrew his strike, spinning on his heels as the two black gauntlets flashed past his head.
Bam!
Ichor's elbow connected with Grim's jaw, stunning him for a moment as Ichor slammed the pommel of his blade into Grim's throat.
Grim suddenly grinned, his body bent at a weird angle as he spun on his heels, going around Ichor and appearing at his back.
Ichor immediately reacted, spinning on his heels in tandem, his blade swinging horizontally towards Grim's head. Grim raised a hand, blocking the attack to Ichor's shock. Ichor had expected Grim to continue with another attack, but he had actually blocked instead.
Using his other free arm, Grim connected his fist with Ichor's abdomen. Ichor could barely react in time. His body lifted off the ground as the fist connected with his forearm. Ichor took several steps back, his left hand trembling from the attack.
Heavy… His attacks are very heavy. I need to make mine heavy as well.
Ichor's eyes were absolutely focused. Throughout the fight, his eyes had never left his opponent. His left hand slowly reached towards his sword in his right.
Grim's eyes narrowed, his body bending a bit. His heels were off the floor; he stood on his toes.
The moment Ichor's left hand held his blade hilt, both of them moved once more. They closed the distance, each one sending the final blow to the opponent. Although they had been entirely focused in the match, they could somehow tell that the time was almost up.
The fight had slowly built up to this point, and it was time to close the show.
Grim's body bent in a similar way to Zandov's when he had used his technique. His muscles clenched, and he threw a devastating punch towards Ichor. His aim was the head.
Ichor didn't flinch even as Grim's fist cut through the air, heading for his head. His eyes were entirely focused on Grim's face. Just when it seemed like the fist was going to connect, Ichor finally moved. His sword, which had been angled in a weird way, suddenly arrived beneath Grim's hand.
Ichor thrust upward, the tip of the blade connecting with Grim's wrist with shocking precision and force.
Snap!
Grim grimaced as his hand shifted, grazing just above Ichor's head, his eyes widening at the unexpected attack.
He quickly moved his second fist to block his throat, but to the shock of everyone, Ichor's hand left his weapon. His left hand grabbed Grim's hand, his body immediately moving in tandem as he lowered his knees, clenched his right hand, and punched out.
Grim gritted his teeth, determination flashing in his eyes as he sent out his second fist in hope to deal damage also.
Bam!
A loud sound reverberated through the training arena.