Tokyo, Japan
August, 2020
The athlete parried her opponent's blade, then beat it aside to press her attack. Her opponent danced away out of reach, stomping the ground to throw her off before lunging back in. The athlete was not fooled, and deflected the strike neatly before executing a riposte of her own. The counter took her opponent off-guard, and she lurched out of the way at the last second, with the athlete's épée missing the shoulder by millimeters, running the flat along her pristine white uniform in passe. The athlete's opponent disengaged again, clearly spooked by the close call.
They clashed again, again, and a third time, neither gaining an advantage. Finally, her opponent threw caution to the wind and rushed headlong in a flurry of attacks, seeking to overwhelm the athlete with sheer speed and ferocity. The athlete blinked in surprise and backpedaled. Such a reckless assault was rarely seen at this level of competition, relegated to the ranks of the young or inexperienced. As such, she wasn't sure what to expect next, or how to counter it. She quickly shuffled backwards, keeping her free hand at the small of her back, one foot always leading, even in retreat. Her opponent pursued, eager to press her apparent advantage. There! That was the opening the athlete needed. She quickly arrested her retreat, throwing her sword-arm high, wrist inverted and poised downward in a deft point-in-line maneuver. Her opponent tried to pull back and away, but her own momentum defeated her, and the athlete's blade bowed upward, pinned to her opponent's breast.
The stadium erupted into cheers as the final point was scored. This last bout between the competitors had been the deciding contest. The athlete removed her wire-frame mask, perspiration plastering her hair to her head. Ariel extended a hand to her vanquished opponent, elated by her victory.