This time, even though he feared the premature death that was about to befall him, Red felt it in his bones, that this was his final call.

He suddenly straightened his back, inhaled a couple of deep breaths, and put his only functioning arm behind his back.

"Yes Sir! I will follow your orders even further down into the fiery pits of hell! Cadet Red Is awaiting instructions, Sir!"

The change in attitude was simply jaw-dropping, but it made sense. Upon the ultimate threat, even someone like him decided to adapt, putting aside everything else. A broken arm was fine, Red's ego was that big after all and it almost caused his death multiple times. But precisely because of that, Red knew when to retreat.

"Sir! May this junior ask you about an important matter?"

Cole had just crushed This thug's left arm on multiple parts, even every single finger wasn't spared from such torture, the guy cried multiple times and couldn't even hold his bladder once, he wet himself. From a psychological point of view, his resistance to pain was admirable.

Yet he was standing there, asking for something from him, interesting.

"Allowed, please speak."

Finally, something that didn't go wrong this morning, a surge of emotions for a moment clouded Red's mind.

'Fuck, I truly do need to vent and someone, and oh boy I knew you were there. You thought you could trick the great Gondagorzinkz and leave unscathed, but here it is, coming back at you. Prepare yourself.'

A devilish grin appeared on his face, as he took a glance at the running trainee's in the distance.

"Sir! I would like to request a duel with one of my fellow cadets. We had already decided to hold it today, but the coward didn't present himself!

As such I would be glad if you could host it, to make the fight fair and stop any external influence."

Hearing such a suggestion, Captain Cole felt his interest piqued after a long time.

'Intriguing, I guess we could change today's training a little bit. I am also curious about which trainee made this guy hold such a grudge against him.'

The Captain stopped the running cadets on their tracks, leading the way towards the center of the training grounds, where he got up the squared, tiled floor of the small arena.

'I knew such a thing could have happened, only I thought not so soon. Fine, have your way, with such heavy injuries you are digging your own grave.'

Nestor was quite conscious of the situation, though he slightly rejoiced at the gruesome sight that was Red's left arm. For a split second, he gave Cole the thumbs up for doing such a work of art. Only to slightly regret it later, his conscience screaming about such negative thoughts.

'Well, he's trying to make e into a homeless person, after all, that's not nice. How about I give you a taste of your own medicine?'

Five minutes later, all the presents were made aware of the situation, and just before the start of the spar, the Captain called for someone to at least wrap up Red's arm in bandages.

With hurried steps, Teresa quickly arrived at the grounds. She mustered all her acting skills and appeared shocked, saddened, and worried for the poor Red. She even stopped in front of the Captain looking at him with an almost menacing expression.

She swiftly made her way out through the lateral colonnade, only to stop just behind the last pillar before the internal corridor leading inside the academy.

"He he he, You're dead, I now will take the initiative and shape the inner hierarchy among the squad."

Saying so, Red quickly took out a sharp dagger from his soul tabled, slowly licking its blade as if he could already taste Nestor's blood smeared over it.

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"Alright, you both position yourselves on the opposite edges of the arena. The fight will stop once one of you becomes incapacitated and is unable to continue. Don't try to pull any tricks, or not only I will stop the duel but I will also make your next sparring partner.

Also going out of the arena will make you lose, other than that everything is allowed, I will give you some pointers at the end. Also, for the other trainees waiting here, keep yourselves warmed up, you're next. Begin! "

The match began, and Nestor couldn't hide his anxiety, as it was time for him to perform!

Red quickly approached Nestor, With ample strides and his blade prepared to skewer his enemy's flesh.

'What? He's not moving, will you chicken out on me like that?'

However as the reaper approached, Nestor felt his senses cold, prepared to face the danger ahead. His precognition made him visualize the trajectory of the enemy strike.

Adrenalin kicked in and his Khopesh deflected Red's deathly dagger.

'He was after my throat, this delinquent doesn't care much about Captain's rules, if I didn't defend myself here I would have died.'

Such realization froze Nestor right in the spot, only the thought of Cole coming in to protect his dear life was enough to regain his cool. The knight at this point had become a sort of assurance for Nestor, that had clearly never experienced a death match before.

Red made quick work around Nestor, circling him and periodically striking, always aiming at his vitals. Nestor on the other hand remained on the defensive, at the last second he always managed to mechanically position his sword to deflect the enemy's strikes.

One could already distinguish an important factor dictating such an outcome. Nestor had yet to learn any sort of swordsmanship, from how he handled the Khopesh to his footwork, he was entirely relying on instincts.

Thus he decided to play it safe, going for the long run and making this a battle of attrition. he had just one simple advantage over his enemy, he had already stepped into the realm of soul practitioners.

However plans never go as intended, and Nestor was about to learn such a lesson.

Suddenly, one of Red's attacks couldn't be deflected, its direction failed to be anticipated by Nestor's precognition. The treacherous knife finally found its way through Nestor's left side.

Finally, he managed to break through this turtle's hard shell, as Red licked the stained blade of his dagger, he smiled. A wicked smile of euphoria, sweat revenge it was.

'So that's how it is, you are not immune to faints! It's as if he has some kind of tracking ability that helps him parry my attacks with anticipation. But if at the last moment I suddenly change its direction I'll manage to fool him!'

Red thinking was quite accurate about the limits of Nestor's innate foresight, he had not polished this ability nor trained it in any kind of way. Using it a multitude of times might have improved it slightly, but still, until now nobody made him realize that this ability wasn't omnipotent in the slightest.

'I see, I cannot rely entirely on this foresight, it has been so convenient that I ended up discarding all my other senses. I think that if I didn't let my guard down, trusting into it completely, I could have avoided such an injury.'

Blood started to ooze out of the wound, as Nestor held in all the pain focusing on the enemy ahead. He accurately pressed his left hand over it, thankfully the fountain nearby started to apply its effects slowly even more the bleeding.

'I need to analyze what happened so far. I got injured, yes, however, it was entirely my fault that I got caught off guard, otherwise, his attacks could have always been possible to avoid or block. I think the fact that he cannot use one of his arms offsets his combat style. I must hold on, I should be quite close to 'it' after all.'

The duo kept fighting, as Nestor learned not to abuse his perception skill, he managed to block the more insidious faints of his enemy. Yet as minutes passed by, innumerable cuts were engraved all around his body, while another deeper gash had been inflicted on Nestor's left shoulder.

"I think at this point the Captain could already call the duel off, to me, it's pretty clear that Nestor keeps losing over time, all these injuries are already taking their toll on his physique. Furthermore, he has yet to retaliate even once. I must praise his determination, but one needs to know when to give up."

Nessa quietly confided her opinion over the duel, as her warming-up partner was too quite invested in the fight. On one hand, Marco couldn't but agree about her considerations, at just a glance one could say that Nestor was littered with injuries, bathing in his blood. At this point was dangerous to keep the fight going.

However, the captain was standing still at the edge of the arena, unperturbed. He was the psychological insurance that refrained Marco from interrupting the duel, even making him question his own analytical capabilities.

'That look isn't the one of a defeated warrior, but once confident in his victory. Show me, let me see why you have yet to lose your will to fight!'

For the umpteenth clash, the two exchanged blows, however this time the outcome was different. Nobody expected that such a thing could have happened.

Multiple cracks formed over Red's sharp blade, as it then cracked and broke into various pieces, not of any use anymore.

The wicked thug remained there, still with an expression of disbelief.

'But how? I'm sure the blade wasn't compromised in any way, I even thoroughly checked it before coming here.'

Still in a daze, Red didn't manage to notice Nestor's quick assault. The blunted blade of the Khopesh slightly managed to penetrate his flash.

But as a mad grin encompassed Nestor's visage, the Khopesh vibrated with power, and the sword suddenly became encompassed with a dark orange glint that soon invaded and ravaged its victim.