My Parasite Skill System

From standing away, I slowly got to close in on him.

With each passing second, an additional careful step was to be taken.

Now, though, there were two outcomes–two questions.

The first one being, with each passing second–was each step taken bringing me closer to victory? The second one being–was each step rather bringing me closer to defeat?

Well, in the meantime, each passing second only was each passing second. Until that decisive moment where I would see, the seconds were just what they were–seconds.

Only two meters were in between the two fighters, now.

Fiercely gripping onto my sword's handle, I poured out so much of my mana into my lame. And as I still was fiercely gripping on it, my hands trembled.

Trembling which was due to excitement–or due to fear?

Even though I wouldn't want to admit it, it was both.

–For the good twenty minutes that followed, we exchanged blows. Both me and that unsettling swordsman. We did that over and over again.

Clang!

Or maybe it wasn't entirely true.

Clang!–clang!–clang!

"Tsk."

Maybe I was the only one doing that–being on the offensive.

Clang!... clang!

And so, maybe I was the only one being not exchanging, but rather dealing my blows, all alone, with but a mocking impenetrable wall taking them all on, without the least difficulty and interest.

Clang!–clang!–clang!

Time passed, and my overusing my skills became harsher and harsher on me. It happened before.

And following this tendency, it was my breathing that became more and more laborious.

Very soon, this fight was to be over with.

Since the beginning of our battle–that was to be considered part of some 'training program' of some sort–the bigger fighter hadn't moved an inch from where he stood.

Following his quick shoulders, his arms obviously flew around very much in every direction I'd attacked from so that he wouldn't die from my blows.

The two feet he had were different. They were as if the sturdy foundation of a vivid tree. And as if completely planted and rooted in the earth, they didn't move one bit.

–The person I was fighting wasn't a tree.

He could've moved around if he wanted, but he didn't. Or I could've made him move around, but I clearly couldn't.

The bigger fighter was that strong compared to me. He didn't need to move around.

I couldn't even give him back all the scratches he'd given me. That wasn't polite! I didn't like it!

I couldn't reciprocate any of what he gave me. In any kind and form.

All I could give were my endless blows coming from each and every side I could get to find an 'opening' from.

As a result, he only defended. My arms and sword could aim wherever they wanted; be it by piercing the man's head, cutting through the neck, rendering useless each of the limbs, tearing open the abdomen, bringing all of it down with some final, critical hit…

I was far from all of this. Very, very far. But I still believed in it. At some time, he will fall by the sword he had to train.

–Rarely, he attacked. Putting me back into my place each time he did so.

And as the whole of these few rare cases all wanted, the next and last blow he threw at me, right at the moment I dropped my guard down, would be hitting me hard.

From where I stood, I'd just hit back the ground with my aching feet after I'd jumped. Going down with my whole body, my arms slid down pretty fast, too. And with my arms, my sword.

The strength I was displaying at first gradually had to die down, right?

Well, the grip upon my sword loosened up unintentionally. As it did so I was startled by it–so I tightened my grip back on it to the best I could, the fastest I could … but,

Clang!

My trembling fingers ached, and they no longer seized that sword's handle.

My eyes trembled too, but they still seized the tip of my sword easily.

I watched it as it flew to my right and hit the wooden wall with strength.

Doing so, a great many beads of sweat that stayed still, resting up my forehead up until now, started to roll down, all at once.

They only were accumulating below my hair up until this moment.

Suddenly, they all plunged down.

Some went rolling down my temples, some others went rolling down my brows and nose–these ones, then, either hindered my sight, or either rolled straight down to the tip of my nose … before they finally fell off of me, and came crying onto the tip of the wooden sword that was directed at my throat.

A sword was there, yes. And I could only gulp as it was being pressed closer onto my bare throat.

With attention, my eyes finally came and met with the bigger fighter's own.

Looking down on me, he still hadn't moved a foot.

What I found coldly welcomed and greeted me back to the non-fighting world after I'd lost this sword of mine were his two chilly eyes.

He'd said, just before, that there was a time for discipline and a time for laughter.

So … was that the 'discipline' part of this?

He seemed angry, for some reason.

His shoulders went up as he breathed in, then down as he deeply sighed.

"Tsk," I clicked my tongue.

What was that helpless sigh for, huh?

And why was that sword still being directed at my throat, eh?

The chilly eyes seemed to say: how about it, now, can you still dance?

Pissed off, I brought a hand upon the wooden part of the lame, placed my fingers on it, and tightened it hard enough.

My hand still trembled, my hand still ached, but being too frustrated, I kept going at it.

At first, it only was a question of crackling sounds being emitted from the wooden structure. But soon–and I was well fixated on not letting go up till this would happen–it was the wood that broke.

But as it wasn't enough to let off some steam, I felt the urge to click my tongue again.

But then the bigger fighter sighed again.

–And enough!

I angrily stomped my feet upon the wooden ground. Three, four, five times, angrily groaning with each blow. After trying to let the frustration out, seeing it didn't work still, I bit my lower lip … and started out of the dull chamber.

Let's just get out of here!

In the total silence that ruled over there, only my loud steps were to be heard. And that, only for about the next 10 seconds that followed.

After that, I'd reached the closed entrance. Entrance which I was happy to know was closed since I planned on killing the human behind my back. It had to be closed for this.

But in the end, closed or not; what did that matter?

"He just got lucky, he just got lucky, he just got lucky, he just got lucky…" I murmured constantly, sliding the right door open.

I wasn't ready to admit it.

"Oh– oh!" and some people cried out from outside the door. "Someone opened it up, folks!"