Path Forward
Through it all, Xander resolved himself to achieving one goal.
Advancing by one step.
He couldn't win, let alone get close. So he wasn't going to delude himself.
One needs to understand, Mia hadn't even attacked once. Everything he was going through was, oddly enough, because he was of a sufficient level where his senses allowed him to somewhat perceive these things. A weaker person wouldn't even be able to notice these trajectories, so they would die the moment they tried getting close without knowing how.
As such, Xander with in a strange position where he was strong enough to comprehend and somewhat read Mia's attack trajectories, but too weak to really do anything about it beyond attempting to shield himself.
Anyway, at this point, Xander was now 'deflecting' most of the trajectories, enough that he was considering taking a step. However, as soon as the thought crossed his mind, two things occurred.
The trajectories, which had previously been fairly static, suddenly shifted, and suddenly, not only were they following completely different paths from before, they were actively changing!
And the second thing, well.
Xander started to fall, because the pain he felt was no longer dimemberment.
He felt his vital organs, and even his neck, being pierced through.
The sensation was blinding, and his nervous system didn't know what to do with all of it, so it did what it could and tried to force shut down his brain to protect him.
In the moments before he lost consciousness, he sighed.
'Crazy. Imagine getting defeated by "possible" attacks. Then again, I can't feel too bad. Mia... she's a monster. All things considered, I did pretty good...'
'Hm. Seems like that's his limit. Not too bad.' Sergeant Alya hummed in approval.
'Ah, amazing. To think he lasted so long. I doubt I'd have even made it past the first sign of pain.' Aubrey marveled.
'I guess that's all he can take for now.' Mia thought, neither disappointed or elated, as everything more or less fell into what she expected.
But just as Xander was nearing the ground...
'Your best?' From his subconscious, a voice jolted through his psyche.
'You call this your best?' Suddenly, memories flitted through his mind. From the day he first picked up a sword, to everything that came after. His insane speed of improvement, him defeating virtually everyone he came across. Him traveling to all sorts of places around the world to learn obscure and exotic sword arts, and the countless hours spent into practicing the sword.
He'd gotten good. Then he'd gotten great. Then he became the undisputed best. In truth, the only reason why he didn't have more trophies under his belt or win that many competitions was because, at some point, he found it pointless. Because he was going to win regardless of who he dueled with. It would always be a foregone conclusion. He'd rather spend time practicing.
And yet, despite all of that. Despite practicing until his hands bled, and they became so calloused that they were no different from sandpaper.
Despite getting so good that he could create, change, and adapt sword styles that had existed for centuries on the fly.
Despite getting so good that he literally spent his free time leisurely checking out other weapons, and being good with those too.
Despite all of this...
'Was that truly my best?'
Because at the end of it all. Xander had died. Even after everything. A bullet ended him with now way for him to resist. But when that happened, Despite his indignation and regret, he simply accepted that bullets were too fast, so there wasn't much he could have done about it.
And now that Mia had utterly suppressed him, he simply accepted that it was a foregone conclusion. That the gap between them was to vast and wide to consider anything else beyond defeat.
But was that really it?
'Is this truly my best?' He gritted his teeth inwardly.
What if he practiced more? What if he became more innovative with how he used his sword? What if he read his opponents better? What if he did more research?
What if he did more?
More?
More??
More???
MORE!!!
'Maybe... Maybe if I had just gotten a bit better. Maybe if I always carried my sword with me. Maybe that bullet wouldn't have killed me... No, did I even try and reach that point?' Xander suddenly caught himself, much to everyone... well, to the surprise of the people who could understand what was happening.
'Maybe... if I had gotten just a bit better. I'd be able to get closer to Mia.' He gritted his teeth so hard that his gums bled, and when he looked up, his bloodshot eyes were filled with mania.
'Pain? Pain?! What's pain?! What's so good about it? I've already died once! I've endured a lifetime of pain already!' He gripped his sword handle so tightly that blood started to drip from his palms to the floor. And when Mia saw his eyes, her widened ever so slightly.
'That look...' She recognized it.
Pure. Absolute. Unfiltered Obsession.
'The pain of my own limitations. The pain of knowing that eventually, I would be too weak to swing a sword because of age. The pain of knowing that I could never cross a certain threshold. Pain? Pain?! What is pain?! Why should that matter? Why should it hinder me?!' In his eyes, his vision started to change.
'My best? Ha! I only said that because I've never been so utterly oppressed! My best would be swinging my sword until my life was on the line!' He growled as he straightened.
The pain was still harrowing. Still mind-numbing. Still terrible. And yet, in that moment, he couldn't imagine it to be worse that...
'Someone who claims to be the master of their craft, and saying they "did their best" as an excuse because they reached their limits and didn't try to break past them. Pathetic.'
This resentment, it wasn't random.
Xander was simply so good at suppressing it that even he didn't know it had gotten so bad.
Especially after coming to Tatonia, when people spoke ill of swordplay. When he saw or heard of powerful mages, none of which used swordsmanship. At most, he was dissatisfied. He simply believed that it was only a matter of time before he got strong enough to prove the efficacy of blades.
But he didn't know. Every little incident. Every small thing, from earth to Tatonia. The way swords had simply become used for sport as they held no use in actual life-or-death struggled. And how in Tatonia, swordplay was so obsolete that no one even bothered to develop it further, being deemed a "dead" path or "one used by untalented people".
Why did he have to 'wait' until he was strong enough to prove people wrong?
Why was he content with just progressing at a leisurely pace?
And now that he finally faced an insurmountable wall in the form of Mia. He snapped.
Because...
Because...!
'I shouldn't have to give up here!' He raised his sword, and through the haze of pain, clarity.
'Xander.' He told himself, and he raised his foot to take a step.
As he did, the change in his vision crystallized, and suddenly, he could see it.
Extending from his sword, lines of myriad colors spread outward. No, not lines.
Paths.
It only lasted for a brief moment, but he saw it, the myriad of paths his sword could take, interacting with the sheer terror that was Mia trajectories... no. Her intent.
But it wasn't so scary anymore. Because he finally saw a path forward.
'Swing your sword.'
And so he did.
He swung his sword. He didn't use any of his created techniques. In fact, there was barely any mana channeled through the strike at all.
It was simply a clean, beautifully executed downward slash. Done perfectly.
And it cut.
Not through the ground or any obstacles. No...
Through Mia's intent itself.
It didn't go far. And Mia wasn't unleashing her intent to its fullest capacity. Not even close.
But it did still cut.
And it allowed Xander to take. One. Step.
'Ah... I see it now.' His vision blurred as strength rapidly left his body.
'A... path forward...'
Right before his body hit the ground, his body was suspended by an invisible force before lowering him gently.
Aubrey and the rest immediately started to rush over, but they paused when they say Mia standing over Xander's unconscious form. How and when she'd gotten there completely lost on them.
Her tall witch hat blocked the sun and made it hard to grasp her expression. But if one were to see her face, they would see that, on her normally impassive expression. The faintest quirk of her lip could be seen.
'I underestimated him.' Her wand vanished, and she simply lowered herself, getting on his chest and closing her eyes.
'Maybe... I won't be so bored in the future.'