Vin closed his eyes and breathed in deep, burning the aide's mockery into his memory. Just one more reason he had to win. A wicked idea sprung to his mind. A way to greatly improve his odds. But it came at a cost.

He bit his bottom lip and turned to Shill. "Should I open the Vault?"

Shill seemed lost in thought for a few moments, which was rare for him. "Not yet. You shouldn’t reveal all your high rated items for just a few exchanges. In fact… Why don’t you let me fight in your stead?"

“You? PvP?” Vin blinked in confusion. “You haven’t fought against players in ages.”

“It’s not like you can defeat Asire either,” Shill said, “so what’s the difference?”

Vin felt the anger rising again. “Is that what you think?” He went through his inventory and equipped an armor made of padded leather. Light enough to allow for swift maneuvers, but thick enough to prevent most injuries. “I’ll just have to prove you wrong then.” He knew better than to direct his anger at his subordinate, so he turned and passed through the door once again. The players turned to face him, eager for the bout to start. It was not every day that rankers in the single digits faced off.

“No more delays.” Vin gazed at Asire. “We fight.”

Asire unsheathed his sword without a word and held it level with his chest. The blade glittered brilliantly under the sunlight.

The pressure mounted as Vin walked closer. He had always wished for a chance to prove himself, but staring down at that blade made him feel inadequate. He decided to stay on the defensive. This wasn’t the real fight, just a gauge of his opponent's strength. He called forth his own sword as if from mist and the hilt dropped into his waiting palm.

"I've seen you on the battlefield, Vin." Asire stood unmoving. "It's a blessing to have you on our side."

Vin silently gauged the distance as he walked. His sword had a slightly longer reach. With the right movement, he could land a hit without being in danger.

[Asire is challenging you to a duel. Do you accept?]

Vin did away with the system messages and shut everything else out. After all these years it was easy, like flipping a switch. There was no room for emotions when weapons clashed. He thought 'Yes', and Asire's name turned from gold to red.

They locked eyes. Vin took half a step and thrust, his blade turning to a blur. Asire parried it to the side with ease and retreated into a defensive posture Vin had never seen before. Most of the tactics used in Twilight were based on actual combat, and all the rankers studied them and trained extensively. Despite that, Asire’s fighting style was unique.

Vin circled the man with measured steps, trying to discern real gaps from fake ones. Asire kept the tip of his sword up and inched closer. Vin counted. One step, then two. Halfway through the third and he was in range.

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Vin thrust his sword forward and dodged to the left. The first strike found metal and the second air as Asire leaned backwards. Vin pressed the advantage, falling to an aggressive stance that left no time for counterattacks. Still, he was careful not to get too close. The players observed, almost dumbstruck as the storm of bladework continued. Vin knew what they were thinking, and he liked it. Asire was being forced back.

They neared the bounds of the sparring ring and Vin ducked, Asire's blade whizzing through the air over his head. With all his weight on one knee Vin sprang up, cutting diagonally. The blade rebounded with force, as if it crushed against a stone wall. Sparks of colored light filled the air, and the spectators held their breaths.

Asire had used a skill! Active skills in Twilight were rare and few, especially defensive ones. In a fight between rankers, the one who conceded that failsafe first usually lost. Vin himself only had three skills.

"You're unpredictable." Asire righted himself as Vin retreated. His left hand let go of the hilt and his stance changed once more. “I'm glad to have fought you.”

A chill ran down Vin's back. Something had just changed. The sun seemed to reflect off Asire’s blade and even his clothes, cloaking him in light. A low hum came from his blade as radiance gathered within. “Now, let me show you the true distance between us.”

Vin stood his ground. Too many people looked up to him. Too much hinged on this fight. He sharpened his senses and found only the two weapons to hold meaning. The sword, though almost blinding, was captured in his gaze. Vin took a deep breath. "Come."

Asire took half a step and slashed. The speed of his blade almost caught Vin by surprise, but the distance proved his saving grace. He positioned his sword to parry, but the force he expected never came. Asire ended his attack halfway --with speed and grace no man should muster-- and spun. Vin's arm numbed as the blade cut through his flesh. He didn't even have time to think before the sword came swinging again.

'Light Shield!'

A translucent shield of white formed by his will. Asire froze his sword in mid air and twisted his hand. The afternoon sun gleamed on the length of the metal, and Vin squinted involuntarily. It lasted only a moment, a heartbeat, but when Vin opened his eyes Asire was gone. He felt the twitch of being cut on the back of his knees, and his vision shifted as he stumbled to the dirt.

The whole exchange lasted only a few seconds. The surrounding players watched with their mouths agape. Vin looked around in confusion. Why couldn't he stand? Why was Asire sheathing his sword? A traitorous thought crossed his mind. He had lost. He didn't know how or when, but he had lost miserably. The simple bout ended in disaster. He pushed Asire too much and--

"Well played." Asire extended a hand. "You fought hard."

Vin winced. The last thing he wanted now was sympathy. It'd only embarrass him further. "I concede," he mumbled and turned his head away.

[The duel is over. Victor : Asire. Status returned to normal.]

Vin stood by himself and shook Asire's outstretched hand. The taste of defeat lingered in his mouth, but he had to keep up appearances. Slowly, the anger inside him resurfaced, but this time it was directed at himself. How could he have knelt so easily? Why did he keep losing?

Under the watchful eyes of guild officials, players and even NPCs, he turned his back and walked towards the guild hall. Every step he took burned from their gazes. Silent and judging.

"I'll be waiting for you on the battlefield."