Chapter 53.2
The battle had dragged on. The woman defended herself against Bash’s stormy strikes. The battle continued under the pouring rain. Although the ground was muddy, neither of them faltered, and the battle continued without hesitation.
Bash’s blows didn’t even touch the woman, and her counterattacks did reach him, but they only cut his skin, and no blood spilled. It was like a dance, but it wouldn’t have been possible if either of them hadn’t been skilled enough. If the woman’s skill wasn’t enough, Bash’s sword would cut her, and if Bash’s skill wasn’t enough, her sword would sever his veins. The difference was that the first could win the battle with a single strike, while the second would take longer to finish him off, but if the result was death, it was the same.
Although those strikes capable of ending her life in a single blow passed near her body many times, she remained composed. She repeated the same actions, unconcerned and mechanically. She adjusted her pattern by observing the beginning of each strike: she evaded if Bash swung his sword, she evaded after a while if she sensed a feint, and she evaded if the trajectory of the sword changed mid-strike after she had parried it with her own sword. If the trajectory of the sword changed during a counterattack, she used her own sword to block and evade it. Bash also evaded them. She knew that if he backed off any further, he wouldn’t be able to avoid the next attack, and if she backed off too much, she knew that Bash, who had paused in his evasive maneuver, would launch a strike that would be harder to dodge. If she avoided the difficult-to-dodge strike, she would lose her position. If she tried to avoid another strike after losing her position, she would lose it even more. The end result was a “deadlock.”
If that happened, the woman wouldn’t stand a chance. But she knew it. And her opponent knew it too.
Bash was calm. He wielded his sword so calmly that it was hard to believe he was an orc. He always took the best step and made the best thrust. If he became impatient and faltered, the woman’s sword would instantly pierce him. If he shed even a drop of blood, the tide of the battle would turn against him. The end result was a “standstill.”
However, if the situation continued like this, Bash would have the advantage. An orc’s body was much larger than that of a human woman, and his endurance was still greater. It was almost certain that the woman would run out of stamina first.
That’s why the woman took a more offensive stance.
“So, this is the Orc Hero. No wonder everyone admires you,” the woman murmured a few words and took half a step back. Bash’s next strike was stronger than usual, and then he delivered a slightly deeper blow. The strike grazed the woman’s neck but didn’t even become a superficial wound. The woman changed her stance and readied her sword. Bash retracted his sword and then delivered a strike that she couldn’t avoid. “But you’re still an orc.”
For a brief moment, Bash’s strike was hindered by doubt. His gaze fell upon the woman’s chest, his nose twitched, and his mouth relaxed.