GameDev Reincarnated into His Own Creation

Chapter 13: New Instance

His heel caught a groove between stones. Perfect. Vel dropped his shoulder and redirected Graham's force sideways, using the momentum to spring backward. The sudden distance between them gave him precious moments to analyze the situation.

This fight was nothing like Graham's match with Celia. Where she had relied on raw speed and instinct, trading blow for blow in an explosive display, Vel's encounter felt more like an intricate dance. Each movement calculated, each step measured. His mind raced through possibilities, planning three, four moves ahead while accounting for Graham's potential responses.

But something gnawed at the edges of his concentration. The weight of this test pressed down harder than Graham's strikes. Lady Halen's scholarship hung in the balance. His chance at the Academy - at real progress - teetered on the outcome of this match. Von's faith in him...

A flicker of movement snapped Vel from his thoughts. Graham's stance shifted, weight transferring to his front foot. The defensive shell cracked open as the Vice Headmaster surged forward, practice sword cutting upward in a vicious arc.

Vel's eyes widened. He'd been too caught up in his head again, let his guard slip for crucial seconds. Now Graham pressed the advantage, forcing Vel to scramble backward as wooden blades whistled past his guard.

"Focus, boy!" Graham's voice cut through the chaos. "Your mind's elsewhere!"

He was right. Vel had let his fears overwhelm him, forgotten the immediate threat in favor of future worries. Now Graham's offensive pushed him further back, each strike threatening to break through his hastily raised defenses.

Vel's arms trembled from the force of Graham's strikes. Each block sent shockwaves through his bones, yet the Vice Headmaster hadn't even shown his true speed. This was pure, raw power - and Graham wielded it with casual precision.

If Graham unleashed the same lightning-quick movements he'd used against Celia, Vel wouldn't stand a chance. His mind raced through scenarios, each ending with his guard shattered, his defense broken. He needed a solution - both to penetrate Graham's iron defense and to counter that devastating speed if it emerged.

"Still thinking too much," Graham's practice sword punctuated his words with another bone-jarring strike.

The words stung deeper than the impact. All his talk about moving forward, about proving himself worthy of this world - it meant nothing if he couldn't back it up here and now. The Academy, his future, everything hinged on this moment.

A wild thought struck through his tactical planning - what if he abandoned structure entirely? Create chaos, force Graham to react to unpredictability rather than calculated strikes.

Vel sucked in a sharp breath and launched himself forward. His wooden sword became a blur of motion, striking high, low, thrusting, slashing - each attack flowing into the next without pattern or pause. He poured everything into this frenzied assault, letting instinct guide his blade where strategy had failed.

Graham met every strike with perfect timing, his defense an impenetrable wall. Yet Vel pressed on, studying each response, noting how Graham shifted his weight, adjusted his grip, maintained his balance. Every clash of wood revealed another detail about the warrior's positioning.

Sweat dripped into Vel's eyes as time seemed to stretch. His arms burned, his breath came in ragged gasps, but still he couldn't land a single hit. Against such masterful defense, could he even score one clean strike? Doubt crept in as his frenzied assault began to slow.

Vel's arms trembled, but a new strategy crystallized in his mind. Direct assault hadn't worked. Neither had calculated combinations. But what if he turned his weakness into strength?