‘Now it's fifty-fifty.’
I had no confidence I could win against Mitch Hurrier when his hands were fine. Having awakened to my talent, I was retracing the path my right hand had walked with my left. But even after all that, could I use my left hand as well as my right?
No. Then, holding a sword with one hand, could I handle the full power of Mitch Hurrier's two hands?
‘Not a chance.’
I had already experienced it several times. Moreover, whatever he had been doing, that bastard had no bad habits. It meant it was hard to read his patterns even if I wanted to.
His applied techniques came out smoothly every time. His foundation still seemed to be the Righteous Sword and the Flowing Sword. Enkrid's foundation was the Heavy Sword Style.
I was still at a disadvantage. A Heavy Sword used with one hand. Even though I took out his thumb.
He was still capable of gripping his sword with both hands. If things went south, he could probably endure the pain and swing his sword a few times.
‘Can't be helped, I guess.’
I wanted to cleanly cut his throat with my sword. But if that wasn't possible. I had no choice but to show him the Vallen-style mercenary swordsmanship, a dogfight.
“I feel a little sorry.”
“What nonsense are you talking about?”
Enkrid was serious. He felt a little sorry. Mitch saw me as an obstacle to his progress.