Rasie, who was chewing on her grilled fish, shifted her gaze toward Fyar and Zaefal. Her pupils widened as she witnessed the climax of the sword fight just now.
That idiot... who is he, really? What kind of swordsmanship is that? she grumbled internally, observing Fyar's every move with a more serious focus.
In the field, Zaefal wiped the blood that trickled thinly from his eyebrow. He looked at the red stain on his finger, then let out a soft chuckle. "Fyar."
Zaefal took a breath, then placed his sword on the ground. He settled into a hand-to-hand combat stance and looked at Fyar with a smile, as if offering an invitation. "It seems I don't need to teach you swordsmanship. How about we try with our bare hands? Who knows, maybe I can teach you a thing or two about that."
Fyar returned the smile. He slid his katana back into its sheath, then settled into his favorite martial arts stance: boxing. His hands were positioned to punch, while his footing was firm, ready to launch a Taekwondo kick. Fyar felt his spirit ignite. He wanted to know if a normal human from Earth could face someone with superhuman strength.
By the riverside, Rasie and Illya enjoyed the fight while continuing to grill and eat their fish. They watched with the focus of a captivated audience at a very interesting show.
Without warning, Zaefal stepped forward quickly and immediately launched a kick with his left leg.
Fast! Fyar thought.
Fyar, however, still managed to block the kick with his forearm. He didn't let go; instead, he gripped Zaefal's leg and planned to sweep his opponent's standing leg out from under him. But in that split second, Zaefal seemed to know his plan. He used his free right leg to launch a spinning kick, forcing Fyar to release his grip and leap backward. The kick passed just inches from his face, the hiss of the air it displaced feeling all too real.
Shit, I could have died if that connected, Fyar cursed in his mind.
After retreating, Fyar settled back into his boxing stance, waiting for Zaefal to attack again.
Zaefal accepted. He moved in and unleashed a series of rapid punches. A straight left jab shot out to measure the distance, followed by a powerful right cross aimed at his jaw, and finished with a left hook targeting his temple.
Fyar didn't flinch. He weathered the barrage with a tight boxing defense. His two hands protected his head and face, while his upper body moved fluidly, bobbing and weaving to the right and left to lessen the impact of the blows.
As Zaefal's final punch missed, sailing past his head, Fyar seized the opening. He spun his body and threw an unexpected spinning elbow. Zaefal, however, managed to block it with his arm. He had adopted the exact same boxing guard as Fyar.
Even if just for a moment, Zaefal's ability to analyze and adapt was truly incredible. He could mimic a person's movements just by seeing them once.
He's copying me? What the hell? So who's the one learning here? Fyar thought, stunned as he saw Zaefal perfectly mirror his defensive style.
Fyar then aimed a punch at the other side of Zaefal's head. As Zaefal raised his other hand to defend, Fyar smiled. It was a feint. He changed the direction of his punch downward and slammed it hard into Zaefal's liver.
This time, his punch hit its mark.
Zaefal was slightly surprised by the impact, which forced him to instinctively take a few steps back to catch his breath.
"Th-that hurt," he muttered, yet a satisfied smile was etched on his face.