Death’s Name Aesthetics: Laethe, the Hero
Over the next hour I tried without success to step within Ingert’s defenses. With each failure, Nox ordered me to drink some water and take a moment. I found that as time went on, I turned my focus away from my frustration toward the task at hand. It wasn’t easy, but I found if I focused more on winning and less on my anger at not doing so, the world appeared sharper. I started to notice things I hadn’t before: the tick in Ingert’s left shoulder that made his movements just a little slower on that side, the way his staff blocked his gaze whenever I moved in for a center strike, the attention he focused on me whenever I darted from side-to-side and how he was always prepared to block from the right because that’s where I always ended up being.
The more I noticed, the more analytical I became. The need to win, to prove myself, fueled me even as time wore on and I seemed no closer to victory. I started to test the waters rather than full on attacking: if I struck from this direction, would he lift or swipe to block? What if I did it with both swords?
At last, I forced Ingert back a step. It was a small, almost unnoticeable victory, but one that surprised and unbalanced him.
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