46 Progress (2/2)

We assumed our positions, and I started spinning. Before I could think of a plan, Father charged me. I panicked and tried to slice him with my whip, but he sidestepped with ease.

I lost control of my whip, and he swiftly closed the gap before planting a blow on my side. It was obvious that he held back, but I was still winded.

”That was a little disappointing,” Father remarked, ”remember, you want to fight at range. You can't let me get close to you. You should try ground ward whipping.”

”Do I even have time to learn it?”

”Ah, it's not that hard.”

Without further delay, I tried it out. Slashing the ground was surprisingly easy, simply requiring me to twist my wrist in a figure of eight motion.

I had a bit of difficulty returning to spinning after the slashes, but after a few tries, it came quite naturally. I was pretty accustomed to the whip's movements after this past week.

”Come on, let's go again,” Father urged.

We assumed our stances, but this time I was wary of his advance. He made a motion to charge forwards, and I pre-emptively whipped the ground. But Father had faked the charge and merely watched the whip slash before him.

”Come on, are you even trying to hit me?” he taunted.

I didn't want to fall into his trap, but he was right that I couldn't reach him like this. Even if I extended my whip during the slash, I could reach a maximum of ten feet in front of me, as I could only spin a five-foot-long whip.

I retracted my qi, conjured my trigger scene, then shot my qi towards him. He dodged to the left with ease, but I knew that he would try something.

With a flick of my wrist, I send a wave rippling down the length of the whip. In a second it reached father, swishing towards him. Without any hesitation, he rolled under the end of the whip and charged me.

I tried to flick it back, but I couldn't stiffen my qi the whole way, and it flopped to the floor. Father jumped over the whip with ease, continuing his charge.

This was no time to panic, so I retracted my qi and started ground ward whipping, but I was too late. Father dodged the first slash and hit my face with a palm strike before I could do the second.

I smarted under the impact, tears welling in reaction to my bruised nose.

”That was better,” Father commented, ”but your attack pattern was obvious. Any brawler worth their salt could dodge that.”

”Hey, I'm getting better!” I retorted, and Father chuckled in response.

”Again!” he commanded, and we assumed our positions.

The spars continued in a similar fashion for the rest of the day. No matter what I tried, I couldn't even touch him! But I could feel that I was improving rapidly.

With each spar, I became calmer, able to react to situations more decisively. By midday, I was able to shift my focus to how I moved around the patio.

Positioning determined the flow of the fight, but it was hard to pay attention to my footwork, the whip, and what Father was doing, all at the same time.

It was a gradual process, and I noticed Father had to move faster with each fight. But the endless stream of defeats was slowly getting to me. I dedicated myself to getting a single hit on him by the end of the day.

I had an idea, but it would be hard to pull off. I had yet to show him my Forceful Steps, and I could use them to make a complex compound attack.

I would bait him to charge me, then retreat at the last moment with Forceful Steps. From there, I would do an Extending Slice, then finally a ground ward whip if he made it through.

He had become accustomed to beating me the instant he got close, so I hoped that this would catch him off guard. The last spar before dinner came, and I was ready.