Home / Fantasy / WHIT / 30 - SWEET THORNS
30 - SWEET THORNS
Author: VKBoy
last update2022-03-30 02:37:14

Weapons barely kept missing each other’s bodies. It didn’t seem like they were simply sparing anymore.

Her attacks were mostly slices aimed not to pierce through to the bone but to cut the flesh with either edge of the blade. They weren’t just simple straightforward slices. Whenever she overextended her thrusts, intentionally or not, she transitioned into slices when extracting the blade. The control she had over her swords was definitely a class above Edgar.

Most of the time, he was forced to defend himself, but every time he cleared the danger from the tip or the edge of her sword, he transitioned into slashing mode. His frequency of attacks were relatively slower but packed a punch and pushed the opponent back more often.

As seconds passed by pretty fast, there was no clear sign as to who held the advantage during this fight, as both of them were still learning about their opponent. And they looked like they were beginning to feel the thrill.

The silver metal sparkled as their weapons slashed the air and clanged as cold thunder-balls rolled over the clouds. In those recent few exchanges that were close calls that cut up bits of their clothes, both knew that the fun had just begun.

They moved pretty swiftly as they went about blocking each other’s what-seemed-like brutal whips and thrusts, while their feet spun and slid on the grassy surface, but there still was a clear difference between their styles. One moved with the flow of the fight, like a mannered wild beast, while the other moved like they were taught. One sported a grin that split their lips, while the other’s expressions couldn’t be seen. One’s weapons hummed a rough tune when at work, while the other’s was more on the sweet yet sharper side. One was agile, while the other had better control.

The more the number of times their weapons clashed, the more the distance between their minds shrank, and the better they understood each other’s moves.

For the first tens of seconds of their fight, they were under the tree, and so the heavy rain didn’t disturb their fight; however, the rainwater eventually pushed its way through the leaves and poured all of its coldness on them. Still, it wasn’t enough to ease the tension, let alone cool the heat of the contest even a bit. While their clothes soaked in rain, their hearts soaked in the battle.

There was no exchange of words, only skills. One after another, they revealed to each other their new moves so as to stay above competition.

Though she was on the offense for most part, whenever he took the role, her blade shivered ever so slightly. Though he couldn’t pierce through her defense, she managed to brand his new clothes with cuts. Though the thought of his sister killing him for spoiling the new shirt ran through his mind, he kept on fighting, albeit with the scare lingering in the back of his mind. Though the battle didn’t go as she thought it would, she clung to it and raised her level throughout. Even though there were instances where their faces and bodies were against the opponent, their weapons did not.

When it seemed the fight would go on forever, then came a decisive strike.

As she once again pushed him back toward the tree, she at one point got forced to duck, and in that moment, Edgar climbed a step on the tree and spun in the air and came down striking both his blades at her. Though she cross-blocked it while trying to stand, her swords quivered upon impact, and Edgar’s foot came down like an arc and thrashed her belly. She got blown back. The swords slipped out of her wet slipper gloves. And for the first time in their fight, her back touched the ground, totally.

Edgar was still in his stance, with his two blades almost intersecting through their tips.

However, she didn’t stand up.

The rain was pouring, and the water got into her hood.

“Darn it,” she mumbled.

(Is she mad that her sword slipped? Or was she not expecting me to strike with the foot?) Edgar’s mouth was downturned as if he didn’t quite like how things went because never used anything other than the swords to attack him throughout the fight, but then he was quick to put the negative feelings aside for the moment. “Hooo…” he blew out some air out of his lungs before jerking his blades with a twist of his wrists and then sheathing them. He then walked up to her and stretched his hand out to help her get up. However, she spun on her back and kicked his feet, making him fall, and then she kicked herself up to her feet. The water droplets around her made beautiful streamlines, whereas Edgar’s just splashed on the ground like a pig would in a pool, and it wasn’t pretty at all.

She turned around and picked up her swords and sheathed them and walked over to the edge of the tree’s branches. She was still under the cover of the tree, so the rain hadn’t affected her as much, but she was only centimeters away from experiencing the full-blown rain. She removed her gloves and touched the rain. The droplets stung her like sweet thorns.

Edgar was still on the ground, watching her from behind, with his unblinking eyes.

She pulled her hood back, revealing a soaked black hair, and the faint jingling noise the earrings made reached his ears and tickled them. Her hand then slowly removed her mask before she took a step ahead and lifted her head to experience the rain.

At that moment, wind blew and not just her but even Edgar’s face was cleansed and humbled by the outpouring of the heavens. Edgar couldn’t see her features, other than her hair, but still, time seemed to have slowed down for some reason, and his heart was beating a bit heavier than usual. He had never experienced such a feeling before, and he watched like a frog that just came under the tree, seeking shelter from the water bullets, and stayed still.

She soon put her mask back on and lifted her hood back as if to protect her pretty, precious hair.

Then she turned her head a bit to her right and said, “Fare thee well, Mr. Decent.” Saying that she left like the wind.

“W-Wait,” Edgar quickly got up and ran out into the heavy rain and followed her to the end of the street, but after turning the corner, she was gone.

And so did the rain.

At that moment, he didn’t know what he was doing, but his shoulder gently leaned a little against a house wall, where there was a jasmine tree on the other side. So many flowers had already fallen and some were still falling, owing to the mood of the wind. Despite the pleasant fragrance wafting about in that area, he was finding it a bit laboring to breathe, and his shoulders visibly moved up and down every now and again. His heart was still beating perceptibly. Though there was an indistinct smile in his cheeks, his eyes gave off a vague sense of loss as they kept looking for something but failed to find what they were after. He drew both lips into the mouth as if they were dry and needed some moisture.  Then he faintly grinned and bit the lower lip as he shook his head. He put his hand on his face and rubbed all the water away helplessly. His fingers ran through his hair as his feet moved back while he still faced the same direction. (Who is she?)

She came like rain and left the same way, leaving some sweet thorns in someone’s heart.

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