Final Fight, Final Half

Leon looked worried. I suppose anyone would be in his place… hearing the faltering creak of your sword, feeling it as it slowly turned crooked, seeing within bare inches of your eyes the outline of the weakening link slowly forming down the middle.

His feet sunk into the sand - the soles of his boots slowly repelled backward - before, in a surge of effort, he swayed my fist to the side, taking that moment to separate our distances with a harsh kick forward. 

Unfortunately for him, I was already ready the moment he raised that leg - he struck, aiming for a low blow - only to be repelled by the harsher, harder clunk that was the surface of my shield. 

We barely moved an inch of each other… and Leon wasn't having any of that. It was the first time I heard him flustered, panicked - a fleeting grunt that lacked any composure - and unlike many of his maneuvers prior, the way he ran from me so far back was tactless, unrefined…