~Omniscient Pov~
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'Something seems off about Yohan...' Johnathon couldn't describe it other than a certain edge he felt when Yohan had stepped onto the ring. An edge he'd only felt from veterans on the field.
It truly reminded Johnathon of the seasoned veterans he'd faced before—warriors who had practically honed their instincts through years of battle. But Yohan wasn't a veteran... He wasn't even supposed to have even a slither of that same edge, that kind of confidence that essentially radiated off of him now...
Yohan Picked up his blade, a small smile on his face.
Johnathon didn't know why, but that infuriated him. With a silent blow of the wind, Yohan and Johnathon had charged one another.
Fwish!
Clack!!
As they exchanged blows, Johnathon became increasingly aware of this shift. The youngster's movements were nothing short of prodigious, precise; as if every swing of his wooden blade was calculated... There was no hesitation, no second-guessing, just a smooth flow of attacks and counters that now forced Johnathon to remain on his toes...
'This... isn't the same Yohan I fought just a few days ago!' Johnathon thought, deflecting another series of strikes.
He could sense Yohan's skills growing in real time, almost like an aura was around him, pushing the limits of what should be possible for someone with his level of experience.
Each time they clashed, he could feel himself getting slowly outpaced, yet not at the same time. Like his own skills were getting matched on purpose... And that thought alone was angering him to no end...
Not only that; Yohan's eyes reflected that change... They held a focus and determination that Johnathon had only seen in the heat of real combat, not in a sparring match. Every move felt practiced, even more than last time; as though Yohan had spent months—no, decades—mastering his techniques. But that didn't add up. It shouldn't add up.
"How...?"
Yohan heard Johnathon spoke. But it was faint...
"Huh? How what?" Yohan asked back, gaining some distance.
Johnathon's eyes narrowed as he studied Yohan, his breath coming in slightly more labored than before... There was something surreal about what he was seeing—this wasn't the same person he had sparred with just a few days ago.
"How... did you get this skilled?" Johnathon asked, his voice low but tinged with disbelief. His mind raced, replaying the previous exchanges. Yohan's strikes were far too refined, his counters were simply too precise. It felt less like sparring with a young dumb peer, and more like going up against someone who had spent a lifetime perfecting their craft... Nay, still perfecting their craft.
Yohan blinked a few times, caught a bit off guard by the question. He tilted his head slightly, rubbing the back of his neck for a bit; not sure of what to really say, "What do you mean?" Yohan played it off as best he could, "I've been practicing a bit more, same as always." His tone was casual, almost too casual for what he had just displayed.
But Johnathon wasn't buying it. Not one bit. "Practicing doesn't make you move like this. Not in just a few days." He pointed his blade toward Yohan, the grip tight in his hand, "You were nowhere near this level before you got hurt. Don't disrespect me Yohan, I'm no fool... Now it's like I'm fighting someone completely different."
Johnathon's aura shifted, and Yohan could feel the hostility radiating off his older companion...
'Shit...'
He played it off once more; chuckling nervously, taking a step back to create some more distance between them, "I don't know what to tell you... Guess I'm just a quick learner." He could feel his heart racing a bit, but he tried to calm himself. He wasn't sure how to explain what was happening. He couldn't just tell his friend that he could essentially copy innate skills...
Johnathon's gaze didn't waver, though. He could sense that Yohan was holding back—maybe not physically, but there was something Yohan wasn't telling him. And that only made the tension in the air grow heavier.
"Fine," Johnathon said, lowering his stance slightly. "If you're not going to explain it, then show me."
Yohan raised an eyebrow, unsure of where this was headed. "Show you?", on the other hand, 'Has... Has he realized?' Yohan thought...
"Yeah. Stop holding back." Johnathon's eyes locked onto his, the challenge clear in his voice, "Whatever you're hiding… I want to see it. Fight me like you mean it."
For a moment, Yohan hesitated... The truth was, he had been holding back—testing the waters, getting a feel for his skills so that they could blend in with his current ones.
But now? With Johnathon's words hanging, he felt the pull to to stop... To see just how far he could really go now...
The small grin that tugged at the corner of Yohan's lips, then slowly fading into a serious expression... "Alright." he said, his tone shifting vastly. Johnathon saw Yohan walk towards the sword stand, placing back his longsword in its respective shaft...
'What could he possibly be doing?' Johnathon asked himself, observing the youngster.
Yohan on the other hand drew another blade, a choice that surprised him immensely... 'A, katana?' Johnathon wondered why Yohan would choose such a weapon. It didn't make sense.
Even though the katana was lighter, faster, yes, but it lacked the raw power of a longsword by the weight difference and make of the blade... In sparring, where strength often tipped the scales, choosing a katana seemed like a almost deliberate handicap. Yet, there was something about the way Yohan held it—something different.
Yohan stepped back into position, the weight of the katana resting in his hands with surprising ease... His entire demeanor had changed in an instant. Gone was the laid-back attitude from earlier, replaced by an intense, razor-sharp focus. It was like a switch had been flipped...
And Johnathon realized.
Johnathon clenched his jaw, gripping his longsword tighter; 'Why the hell do I suddenly feel... cautious?' His instincts were screaming at him to be on guard, as if he was facing a genuine threat. He couldn't shake the feeling that whatever Yohan was doing, it wasn't a mistake.
Johnathon's grip tightened around his longsword, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple. His instincts screamed louder now, warning him to be ready for whatever was coming. His mind raced.
'That stance… it's designed for speed, isn't it?' Johnathon could immediately tell that fact alone...
Yohan's breathing slowed, his eyes narrowing, his focus now solely on Johnathon. His body remained almost coiled, but Johnathon could feel the readiness, like a spring about to snap.
Johnathon prepped himself, no longer willing to hold back his skills any longer... 'Here it comes...'
The silence between them seemed to stretch on for an eternity. And then, in a blink, Yohan seemed to have exploded. His feet barely touched the ground as he closed the distance between them with terrifying speed, the katana slicing through the air in a fluid arc.
'What!?' Johnathon thought, it was so fast, Johnathon barely had time to react at his current suppression level.
Swoosh! Johnathon could hear the slash piercing the air, as if it would cut into space itself.
To defend, he swung his longsword to block, but Yohan's strike was already past him; the katana stopping mere inches from his chest. The force of the swing left a piercing sound in the air, like a wisp coupled with a gust of wind in its wake, ruffling Johnathon's shirt. He hadn't even seen Yohan move.
His senses were telling him that Yohan was using the same speed as earlier. However, that shouldn't have been possible. Yohan completely vanished from his perception, and to do such a thing, Yohan would need to move at least thrice as fast as before...
'Impossible, how is that even possible!?'
Stunned, Johnathon stumbled back, his heart pounding. "What the hell!…" he muttered under his breath. He looked down at Yohan, whose stance hadn't faltered in the slightest. It wasn't just speed—there was an incomprehensible amount of precision, control, with an overwhelming sense of danger in every movement Yohan had made.
Yohan straightened up, lowering his katana... His gaze almost distant, "Now you see why I wasn't showing all my skills..." he said calmly, his eyes slowly meeting Johnathon's. There was no arrogance in his tone, just a simple statement of a fact.
But what Johnathon hadn't realized was that even though Yohan's stats were the same, it was how he had utilized his body. Having been honed from his training from just last night. His techniques had reached a terrifying amount of efficiency...
On the other hand, Johnathon's jaw tightened, the muscles in his face tensing as anger practically surged through him. His usual calm demeanor fell apart under the weight of his frustration. He had always been the stronger one, the more skilled fighter between the two of them. But now, here was Yohan—someone who just a few days ago struggled to keep up—effortlessly displaying a level of speed and precision that bordered on unnatural.
'Impossible...' He whispered in his mind.
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'It can't be possible....'
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'I. The genius hailed for my sword talent and growth, lost in a bout of sheer skill?...'
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The air around Johnathon seemed to thicken as his grip on the longsword tightened even further; his knuckles whitening. He hated feeling this way—cornered, outmatched. Weak! His pride wouldn't allow it... No, he wouldn't allow it.
Booom!
In an instant, he burst forwards, using speeds that blitzed Yohan's perception in totality. He grabbed the younger boy by the throat, with a grip so tight, he could snap it with a simple flick of his wrist...
Instead, he questioned... "What the hell are you playing at, Yohan!" Johnathon growled, his voice hoarse with irritation. His eyes bore into Yohan's, searching for an answer, something that would make sense of this sudden shift. "How did you get this good overnight?!"
Yohan barely had time to react before Johnathon was in his face, the speed of his movement catching him off guard. The force of his presence, his tone, everything about Johnathon right now was suffocating. His energy literally overwhelming Yohan...
Not only that, the surroundings were literally crackling under the sheer pressure too...
Still, the anger in Johnathon's voice cut through the air. He knew the leap in his skill didn't make sense in every of the word. And Yohan could feel it. He could see it in the way Johnathon's face twisted in frustration... If he were him, he'd be frustrated too.
Yohan realizing this took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, "I told you, I wasn't using my full strength before," he repeated...
"BULL!" his aura flared further, "SHIT!!!" Johnathon barked, his patience was running thin and fast. His longsword gleamed under the arena lights as he swung it downwards, stopping just short of Yohan's shoulder in a controlled strike, the force behind it making the air reverberate, "You can't just go from being a worthless nobody, to—" he gestured at Yohan's katana and the strange, almost eerie proficiency he'd shown earlier, "this!"
"I... I don't know!…" Yohan shouted. "I don't know why either…"
Johnathon's face twisted in disbelief... His pride demanded answers, demanded clarity, and Yohan's uncertainty only fueled the storm brewing inside him.
And then Johnathon decided, "I'm not losing to you!" he finally spat, his tone much colder than before, almost venomous now. His legs bent as he prepared for another assault, his sword rising once again. "I will not lose to you." His gaze sharpened...
He dropped Yohan, instantly appearing towards the other side of the arena... "Pick up your blade, NOW!" Johnathon shouted.
'D-Damn it!' Yohan didn't know what to do at this point, he couldn't take on Johnathon, there was simply too much of a strength difference, even with his kill level. There was nothing that stopped Johnathon from ending him instantly.
'I have no choice... I'll have to defend myself against him...' Yohan readied himself.
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END