Both charged at each other again, colliding with their weapons, causing sparks to fly. They pushed against one another, showing an even match this time. Stungalm tried to gain the upper hand, but Trevor refused to give him the chance. After the moments of pushing, Stungalm spun his blade around Trevor, nearly hitting him in the face, but the elf countered with his shield.
While Stungalm swung again, Trevor saw an opening, as he kicked the masked human right in the stomach, pushing him back. The masked man’s quick recovery, who blocked the attack with his pistol sword, thwarted Trevor’s slash to the chest.
Another clash, both their blades hit one another, even when blocking. In between the barrage of swings, Trevor hit Stungalm with a quick jab to the side, before the masked human kneed him in the stomach. The draconic elf kneed him back as they continued to exchange blows like this.
Ronan considered the possibility that they were too evenly matched. They’re probably gonna kill each other before they admit defeat. He glanced at Aralt, engaged in conversation with Malik and Faizan. And with all three nodding, they decided to disperse the crowd. It had already been proven that watching them was dangerous, as one fighter didn’t even care for people’s safety.
“This is getting too dangerous,” Ronan heard Aralt say to the people as he pushed them away, “Everyone move, now!”
The people grunted in annoyance, but complied. Not that they had a choice. In the meantime, Trevor and Stungalm continued their fighting, with the draconic elf hitting his opponent right in the cheek with his shield. Stungalm winced from the impact. He wiped the blood off his mouth and resumed fighting.
All that mattered was the fight itself. No distractions. Nothing. They kept attacking one another; attempting to discover weaknesses in each other. Anything to exploit. It wasn’t until Trevor got tired of this, tired of this game. His intention was to end it now.
Stungalm huffed, struggling as well. But he didn’t answer. The masked human merely pushed Trevor away and used the chance to shoot at him, but Trevor blocked the attack with his shield. He winced, knowing he might not block the next shots. So he prepared his blade, “Got you now “He lunged forward and swung his blade. He hit the masked man square in the chest, leaving a slash mark on him. Stungalm gasped in pain, taking a few steps back as blood oozed from his chest.
“Fuck!” He shouted, in the middle of gasping for air. Trevor didn’t plan on giving him a reprieve. The draconic elf refused to be merciful, at least in this fight.
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So he swung again. And again. And again. Each time Trevor managed to hit Stungalm, determined to land blow after blow. After another swing, Trevor knocked Stungalm right off his feet. Before the masked man could recover, Trevor put one foot on his chest and pointed the sword at his neck. “Fight’s over Stungalm, call it.”
He huffed, panting heavily, but remained silent. Just as Trevor thought he wouldn’t surrender, he laid limp; not even bothering to move. Seeing this, Trevor sheathed his sword and shield. He turned to some people that remained, “I need a medic now. Fight’s over. If nothing else, I need to go to my people.”
As he walked away from the scene, Malik was the first to approach the lying Stungalm, using his healing magic to close up the more severe wounds on him. The magic looked different from Raygnar’s, giving off a purple and red-ish glow compared to the green as the wounds molded, closing itself as if weeks had gone by. As the hellhound tended to Stungalm, Ronan turned his attention to Trevor, who was leaving the scene without a care, towering and muscular. Perhaps it was so, and he wasn’t displaying it?
It won’t change our relations, he remembered Trevor saying to him, My people are all about strength, valor, and fortitude.
Ronan considered the need to learn about Trevor’s people. Raygnar gave me a few details, unsure if it was enough. And with my father bedridden from injuries, it falls to me. I cannot run from that responsibility.
“Trevor, wait!” Ronan shouted, running after him. But the draconic elf stopped suddenly and then Ronan crashed into him. “Ow, fuck!” He cursed.
“Whoa, careful,” Trevor warned, “Wasn’t expecting someone to follow me. What’s wrong?”
“I need to know... what is your people’s training procedure?”
The draconic elf raised a brow before remembering what Stungalm said. He crossed his arms. “That masked man challenged your people, did he?”
“Like he said, people are only as powerful as their leader. And yes, I had to fight him... multiple times. Much to the amusement of his father back then.”
“Right...” Trevor exhaled, “I will admit, he is not human. But then again, this is the first time I ever fought a human. It’s possible that this is the potential of your people? And it could be why the elves fear you so much. Then again, it is why my son is so into your kind’s history. Powerful enough to have the dragons go haywire and destroy your homes. If the dragons feared you, you definitely had power... a lot of it.” He looked over Ronan to the people there, “How about you stay with your people? They’re going to need guidance. And something tells me this Stungalm person will be too stubborn to let himself stay down. I’ll come by again once I am done with my people.”
“Of course, thank you again for this refuge.” Ronan did a small bow, to show sincerity.
“No need to thank me. My people were in the same situation as yours long ago. It would be hypocritical of me, as a leader, not to help those facing similar situations.” He patted Ronan on the head, like one would to a child before walking off, leaving Ronan to do what needed to be done: get his people settled in.