Chapter 257 - Maiden Versus Sage (5)

Chapter 257 - Maiden Versus Sage (5)

For a few agonizing seconds, an impenetrable silence hung in the air, the tension almost palpable. Willow's heart quickened as he wondered if his audacious gamble had failed.

But then, breaking the stillness like a sudden bolt of lightning, the Sage erupted into hearty laughter. It was a sound that resonated with genuine amusement, and it caught Willow off guard. In his meta-knowledge of the game, he had never witnessed the Sage's laughter, animated or recorded.

The Sage's mirthful chuckles filled the arena, a rich and melodious symphony that defied all expectations. “Good! Good!”

“This is exactly how someone as prestigious as the Maiden should be!”

The Sage's laughter, like rolling thunder, reverberated through the coliseum. He slapped his thigh, his amusement unbridled, before gradually reigning it in. When the laughter receded, his blindfolded gaze locked onto Willow, the intensity of his scrutiny unfaltering.

"I accept!" the Sage declared, his voice resonating with genuine admiration. “This might be my best challenge yet.”

The Sage’s fingers tweaked with the blindfold around his eyes, tightening it, a ritual that he did whenever he was about to be serious. It was also a sign of respect, a sign that Willow was glad to see amidst the number of things that had gotten off-plot. 

"In all my short years of traveling the lands, I have never met a bold fighter such as you. Perhaps the tales I've heard of the Maiden are not so true after all!"

His words held a tinge of irony, acknowledging the preconceived notions surrounding the role of the Maiden. 

The Sage's index finger pointed to his blindfold and then to his chest, a solemn gesture that conveyed his oath. "I swear under the Heavenly Fox, I will not require the might of my 'So' or the clarity of my 'Eyes,' and will only proceed forward in this battle with the skill of my sword."

Almost instantly, Willow could see an-almost heavenly chains in the form of a fox’s ten tails, wrapping themselves around the Sage’s wispy body, binding him to his words. 

The Sage let out a deep breath, as the ethereal tails disappeared, leaving behind only a fox-shaped insignia around his neck. “So it is.”

With his blindfold concealing his eyes, the Sage's expression remained inscrutable, but there was an undeniable intensity to his presence. He directed his challenge squarely at Willow, his voice tinged with anticipation.

"How is it?!" the Sage demanded, his unwavering gaze seeming to pierce through the layers of cloth that veiled his sight. "Are you able to fight me now, Maiden?!"

With a surge of satisfaction coursing through his veins, Willow concealed his internal victory dance behind a mask of calm resolve. "I accept as well," he declared, his voice steady, his gaze locked onto the Sage.

The conditions for his victory were now set, and with a sense of determination, Willow shifted into his fighting stance. 

Willow couldn't help but repeat himself, the words carrying a note of respect and anticipation. "It might be repetitive of me," he began, "but let us have a good fight."

The Sage responded with an infectious smile, nodding his head in agreement. The Sage shifted his stance. It was a fluid, almost dance-like movement, a prelude to the powerful technique that Willow had anticipated. 

The Sage's right foot slid back gracefully, and his hand hovered over the hilt of his bamboo sword, and in that moment, it was unmistakable—the iconic pose of the Sage's most renowned and formidable Sword Art: [Quick Draw].

And yet, it was at that moment that Willow’s confidence soared. 

He could do it. He could win this , for he held a hidden ace up his sleeve. He could practically taste the sweet tang of victory in the air, like the promise of rain after a parching drought. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his chances of emerging triumphant were soaring.

It wasn't merely his exceptional martial prowess or his innate talent with 'chi' that filled him with assurance. It was a secret he held close to his heart, a tidbit of knowledge that the Sage himself had unknowingly revealed in a distant future—during the Siege of Lilith's Castle in the game.

The Sage's famous technique, the [Quick Draw], held a hidden quirk that very few were aware of. It was a quirk that Willow had discovered during a future battle at the Siege of Lilith's Castle in the game world, a piece of information that would now play a pivotal role in this very duel.

The key to the Sage's [Quick Draw] lay in a seemingly innocuous habit—the direction of his sword's swing. In the game, it had been a consistent tendency of the Sage to draw his sword with a rightward swing. 

Basically speaking, The Sage, straightforward to a fault, had a distinct habit when it came to his renowned [Quick Draw] technique. He always initiated the sword's draw with a right swing.

Reality might have nuances and deviations from the game's script, but Willow clung to this certainty like a lifeline. The Sage, as honorable and straightforward as he was, would likely carry this habit into their impending clash.

This knowledge added an extra layer to his confidence, for he believed, with near certainty, that the Sage would adhere to this habit even now. It was a habit that had likely become ingrained in his muscle memory, a testament to the consistency of his character.

Willow's plan unfurled within the confines of his mind, a meticulously crafted strategy honed by years of training, both within the game world and in the crucible of the real one. It was simple, as all great strategies were. It hinged on timing, precision, and the unyielding belief that he held the key to defeating the Sage.

As the Sage poised himself for the impending clash, sword sheathed and right foot slightly back, Willow envisioned the steps that would lead him to triumph.

Step one: Willow's 'chi' would surge through his legs, amplifying the power and speed of his movements. Two steps would bridge the gap between them, catapulting him into the Sage's territory.

Step two: As the Sage executed his signature [Quick Draw], a technique known for its incomparable speed, Willow would synchronize his 'chi' with his reflexes. Like a coiled spring, he'd react with lightning-swift agility, evading the lethal right swing aimed at him.

Now, within arm's reach of the Sage, Willow would shift his focus entirely. Every fiber of his being would channel 'chi' into his right leg. It would be like unleashing a torrent of power, an explosion of controlled energy.

His right leg, charged to the brim with 'chi', would spring into action. He'd execute a precise, unstoppable kick aimed at the Sage's left oblique. The impact would serve to disorient the Sage, perhaps even force him to relinquish his weapon.

But Willow was prepared for every contingency. If the kick didn't prove decisive, he'd follow it up seamlessly. The momentum from the kick would lead into a fluid, 'chi'-infused headbutt aimed squarely at the Sage's forehead.

As Willow's vision dissolved, he found himself firmly grounded in the present, ready to turn his calculated plan into reality. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a testament to his determination. This was his moment of reckoning, a test of his skill and his conviction.

On one side, stood Willow, the enigmatic Maiden, exuded an air of quiet determination. His smile, though confident, concealed the nervous flutter in his chest. He had accepted this challenge willingly, fully aware of the stakes. 

On the other side stood the Sage, an imposing figure with his blindfold and the legendary bamboo blade strapped to his side. His laughter from earlier still echoed in the minds of those who witnessed it, a sound as unexpected as it was infectious. This Sage was not a cold, stoic warrior; he was a man who relished the prospect of a good fight.

With a confident grin that belied the tension in the air, he declared his intent to the Sage, his voice carrying across the arena. It was a proclamation of his readiness, a declaration that he was not to be underestimated.

Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the essence of his 'chi,' drawing it into himself with purpose. It was no longer the boundless, unbridled aura that usually surrounded him, an almost overwhelming force of nature. Instead, he channeled his 'chi' into something more precise, something streamlined and focused.

The 'chi' flowed like liquid lightning, flooding his body with vitality. His limbs felt buoyant, as if he could dance on the wind itself. In this moment, he was not just a participant in the tournament; he was a masterful conductor, orchestrating the symphony of his own energy. Every sensation, every heartbeat, and every muscle twitch was in harmony.

In this pivotal moment, his 'chi' transformed into a minimalistic yet potent energy, coiled and waiting, like a taut bowstring yearning to be released. 

This was not the usual overwhelming and boundless aura that typically surrounded him, but rather a streamlined energy, honed to perfection for the task at hand. It was a manifestation of his meticulous planning and his desire to seize victory with precision.