It is the moment he needs, the precise chance that would allow him the ability to strike. When the Goddess stands before him, the hero sidesteps out beside her. With opportunity and purpose, the battered hero lunges forth into a sprint. His blade is pointed forward, directed at the man who sought to reign in the fate of so many misguided heroes, keeping the tip aimed for vitals that aligned to Link's height and level. Every large step he took felt as if it were draining a gallon of energy from his finite well, every step a step closer to his end as the effect of the spell cast on him was truly taking its toll.

Feet away. So close. Just a bit more.

Mere inches were left in the distance between Link and Ganondorf, a final thrust is all that is needed to make good on the hopes of plunging the blessed blade into the chest of the accursed thief. Wrists twist as both hands grip the handle of the blade, shoving the sword forward as he aims the thrust of his sword towards Ganondorf's chest. Whether he pierces past clothing and skin is unknown, for the brute could so easily block the blade, but if his attempt is for naught, at least Hylia would have an opening to finish what had been started.