Chapter 122: Steel
As it so happened, the two sides weren’t evenly matched at all. Their numerical advantage aside, the villagers seemed to completely outclass the raiders in both skill and the quality of their weapons. Hell, even if their numbers were reversed, Percy was confident ‘his’ people wouldn’t have struggled much.
Within mere minutes, over half of the invaders were dead, gutted like fish by the sharp slashes of the villagers. At least, Percy had to give credit to the survivors as they showed no intention of surrendering. They probably reasoned that it was better to die here than to go back to the jungle. After all, everyone could see the vines already swaying in unrest in the distance.
‘I’m the only one still taking my time…’ he smiled bitterly, as he looked back at his opponent.
He was a man seemingly in his thirties – maybe, though Percy wasn’t an expert on these people’s physiology. He donned a crudely forged cutlass, its edge dull and its blade covered in dried bloodstains. Evidently, Sengo’s advanced crafting techniques weren’t quite as widespread as Percy had originally thought. Of course, he could have defeated the raider already, had he put his heart into it. However, Percy was still struggling to rationalize killing a stranger just to help more strangers.
‘Let’s try to learn something in the process, at least.’
As early as their first exchange, he had noticed an impulse to move and react in a specific manner – in a way he wasn’t used to. Apparently, his host’s muscle memory bled into his own combat instincts, driving him to switch up his fighting style.
Percy could have easily resisted the impulse and made quick work of the man if he wanted. After all, he had plenty of experience himself. Besides, it wasn’t like Micky’s fighting style was any inferior to the locals’. But he didn’t do that. He was curious to see how Takeo fought.
The Dance of the Savage Gods involved a lot of exaggerated movements and quick footwork. Its central concept was achieving dominance over the battlefield, wearing down an opponent with multiple opportunistic blows. The natives’ style on the other hand couldn’t have been more different. It involved much smaller movements, focusing on the delivery of sharp, deadly strikes at an opponent’s vitals.
‘This style might be more compatible with my soul affinity.’