The day of the tournament was almost there. The participants only had two days left to polish their skills and get ready for the big event, and they were all looking forward to it. Especially two of them.

Nigel and Vreil were walking through a corridor, heading towards their much-coveted lunch. Even though Vreil had already surpassed Nigel, they were both among the best of the trainees, rivaled by few except each other. There were rumors that even Arthur was hesitant to fight Vreil now, though Vreil himself knew this was not true. The big man’s cocky grin was the same as ever.

Two months had gone by in the blink of an eye. Training occupied almost the entirety of Vreil’s time, and he now had the strength to show for it.

Arriving at the dining hall, they were served their usual lunch - pieces of meat in a pool of liquid that the cooks liked to call soup - and sat down at an empty table. Even though there were six chairs around the table, nobody else sat with them. Vreil was shunned by the other trainees, and Nigel was getting ignored for being friends with the Arknas.

As they were eating, they were talking about how much they had practiced the previous two months in anticipation of the tournament and how they might even crush Arthur. Suddenly, a huge fist landed on the table between them.

“What did you just say about me?” asked Arthur, his voice booming, and everyone in the room looked at them.

“We weren’t talking about you, Arthur. We have better things to worry about”, Vreil answered calmly.

“Don’t lie, pipsqueak. You said you would crush me, didn’t you? I heard it. You had the nerve to say that just as I was walking behind you.”

Vreil sighed. “I didn’t know you were behind me, Arthur.”

“You don’t actually think you can beat me, right? Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

They hadn’t fought again after that first time. Ever since then, Sain had paired Vreil up with anyone other than Arthur.

“I am not the same as I was last time. We'll see what happens in the tournament.”

“Or we could see it right here and now,” Arthur smiled aggressively, voice pulsing with the thrill of the challenge.

“Don’t be stupid, Arthur. You know we aren’t supposed to fight outside of training”, Nigel tried to defuse the situation, but to no avail.

“Nobody’s talking to you, weakling. I think that little Vreil is just too afraid to fight me, but he thinks he can beat me in the tournament with those cursed eyes of his. Right, guys?”

He laughed, and the lackeys behind Ahim started shouting and mocking Vreil. “Coward, coward, coward...”

“Don’t push it, Arthur” said Vreil, fire blooming in his eyes, but Arthur was too excited to care. He grabbed Vreil’s chair and violently pulled it back, trying to make him fall, but Vreil was too fast for that. As his chair collapsed, he quickly jumped up and drew the wooden sword he always carried around.

Arthur drew his wooden sword as well. The crowd that had gathered around them formed a circle, pushing tables and chairs away and causing a racket. Now that they saw them facing each other, it was clear that Vreil had no hope against a monster like Arthur. He was just too small!

Behind Arthur’s mocking face, he was filled with contempt.

Despite his inborn strength, Arthur was a very devoted warrior. He didn’t just rely on his size, he put his all into training every single day, and he trained harder than anyone else, whereas Vreil wasn’t showing any real effort. In his eyes, and to everyone else's besides Nigel, Vreil was the arrogant one. The lucky one, who wanted to overcome Arthur’s years of painstaking effort just because he’d been born gifted.

The big man scoffed; this arrogant little prick deserved a lesson, and Arthur was going to give it to him.

Only Nigel knew that even though Vreil left the training room early every day, he kept practicing his skills in his room for hours, and then he also practiced magic.

Nevertheless, Arthur was not an easy opponent. He had size, strength, speed, experience, and the drive to exhaust himself every day without fail.

Arthur attacked first, and his sword came flying towards Vreil’s head. Instead of guarding, Vreil struck Arthur’s sword aiming not to stop it, but to push it aside. He twisted his own body, using the momentum from shifting his weight to place extra strength in his strike. It was a technique he had learned after many hours of training, for use especially against overwhelming opponents, like Arthur.

This trick took a big toll on his speed though. The swords clashed and everyone watched in surprise as the Arknas managed to parry Arthur’s dull blade. Vreil’s sword was closer to his body than Arthur’s was now, so he could go on the offensive. He initiated a quick sequence of attacks towards his opponent’s body and head, blending in some feints and full-strength attacks to make the giant use his full strength continuously.

Occasionally, Arthur attacked as well, but he didn’t break Vreil’s defense. The Arknas was in complete control of the battle’s rhythm and, since he couldn’t break through Arthur’s defense either, he was slowly but steadily driving the giant towards exhaustion. A big body needs a lot of energy to keep moving.

Arthur’s stamina began to run out first. His movements slowed down, openings began to appear. Twice, Vreil almost hit him, and twice Arthur was forced to step back to avoid defeat. It was the common rule in sparring that the first one to touch his opponent won.

Now Vreil was tired too, but Arthur was almost out of energy. His movements became sluggish compared to before, his strikes losing their vigor. Only a miracle would make Vreil lose.

A wooden sword appeared on the ground between the two fighters. Vreil, who was on the offense, tripped on it and lost his balance. In his exhaustion, Arthur did not notice the sword.

That was all he needed. He pushed forward with his body, investing all of his remaining strength into hitting Vreil’s right shoulder. Still out of balance, Vreil tried to dodge, but it was useless; all he could do was avoid a serious injury. The sword rapped against him, with enough strength to certainly cause a large bruise.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Vreil had lost. But he had lost unfairly.

Rage sparked through his eyes, gazing around for the interloper, but nobody dared to meet his gaze. Frustration clouded his mind; the sheer unfairness was infuriating.

But he calmed himself, using the principles of meditation that, by now, came naturally to him. He took a deep breath, then another.

It’s not like he could do anything about it, anyway. Even if he claimed that Arthur had cheated, almost nobody would support him. It was certainly one of the man’s lackeys who had done it.

Almost everyone had noticed why Vreil lost. As expected, nobody spoke, but not many cheered for Arthur either. Unexpectedly, the big man himself did not look pleased. From the treatment he’d been receiving, Vreil had assumed that Arthur had little, if any at all, sense of dignity. Now, that notion was challenged.

Arthur was panting, still exhausted, but his gaze was unflinchingly trained on one of his lackeys, shimmering with rage. He gritted his teeth and looked away, his now wavering eyes meeting Vreil’s own. For a moment, Vreil even felt that the man would admit that he cheated, and both his brows were raised in surprise. But in the end, Arthur’s face only turned purple before he turned around and walked away. His lackeys followed him, and the crowd dissolved quickly.

With a sigh, Vreil saw that, during the fight, someone had thrown his and Nigel’s food to the floor. He was starving after all that fighting, but it looked like he would have to wait until dinner. Nigel was next to him, his face red with anger.

“You should consider meditating”, Vreil spoke weakly, winking at his friend, and Nigel grunted. They turned to leave, but Vreil was stopped by a hand on his uninjured shoulder. It was the old lady that served them food, holding two more plates.

“Take this”, she said kindly. “You deserve it.”

He was surprised. So far, she hadn’t shown any affection towards him in particular. That was still better than the looks he was receiving from most other people but he had assumed that, even if she disliked him, she wasn’t showing it.

“Oh”, he exclaimed, remembering that he had to reply. “Thank you...”

“You don’t have to thank me. I saw what happened. Only thank someone if they give you something you don’t deserve”, she winked, and Vreil laughed.

“Haha, alright. Still, it’s very nice of you.”

“In that case,” Nigel spoke up, “let me thank you. I didn’t do anything to deserve this. In fact, I deserved to get my food on the floor.”

The lunch lady did not reply, she just walked away.

“I’m sorry Vreil”, Nigel sighed, the anger disappearing from his face. “I didn’t stand up for you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s eat our food now before more barbarians get to us.”

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On the way back from lunch, they stopped by Nigel’s room, much to Vreil’s delight. The room smelled like old paper, and knowledge, and warmth. It was almost inviting you to sit down and relax.

Unlike all others, Nigel had a wooden library in his room, filled with all kinds of books. Some few were fiction, others were historical, but most were about more delicate subjects like philosophy, art, law, psychology. The boy loved studying, so it was quite a shame that he had absolutely no talent for magic.

Although books weren’t too rare in general, Vreil could only imagine the difficulty in acquiring all of these. As Nigel had told him, he would occasionally read and reread all of his books. It was some kind of daily routine to him.

But every time Vreil walked into Nigel’s room, there was always that one book left open on Nigel’s bed. Its title read “Education and Enlightenment: The Art of Knowledge”.

Too fancy of a title for Vreil’s taste but, then again, who was he to judge? Nevertheless, it was an interesting room, which is why Vreil always enjoyed visiting.

“Here it is”, announced Nigel, discovering the snack he was looking for; it was a bag filled with some kind of popped corn, a rare delicacy. “I have been hiding this for special occasions, but today calls for it. Here, take some.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

With a smile that reached his ears and a nod of recognition, Vreil reached inside the leather bag, grabbing a handful of the snacks and stuffing them in his mouth. Their unexpectedly pleasant paper-like texture and taste flooded his mouth, and Vreil grinned.

Perhaps getting beaten up wasn’t that bad after all.

In the next few days, Vreil noticed that the treatment he was receiving from the other trainees had become better. Not too much, but enough to be noticeable, and to give him hope.

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The day of the tournament had finally arrived! The entire hollow mountain was buzzing with excitement, everyone smiling a little more than usual. Truthfully, it wasn’t that grand or important of an event, but everyone needs a respite in times of war, or preparation for war.

The tournament would begin in the morning and there was no training that day, to let the contestants rest. Vreil and Nigel were the first to arrive in the waiting room, a small, cylinder-shaped cavern carved in the mountain’s rocks.

“I am anxious”, said Nigel. “What if I get paired up with someone like Arthur from the first round?”

“What are the chances of that happening?” laughed Vreil. He had been looking forward to this day. “Don’t worry. I am more worried about those rumors going around, about some extra participants. I wonder if they are true.”

“I don’t think that could happen. And even if it does happen, what are you worried about? After all, only trainees like us can participate.”

“Still,” Vreil sighed, his eyes heading upwards, “I have a bad feeling…”

As time went by and the start of the event drew nearer, his mind began to wander. The image of the Black Beard pirates attacking his village and killing almost everybody, including his family, suddenly popped up in his mind. His constant training these past few months had managed to partly push those memories away, at least in the daylight, but, for some reason, they came back now, stronger than ever. Hatred filled his thoughts and he clenched his fists, causing Nigel to unknowingly shiver.

Pull yourself together, Vreil, he told himself, the time will come.

Other participants arrived one by one and, gradually, the room was filled. There were 13 people participating, including Vreil and Nigel. “An ugly number for matchups”, Nigel had commented earlier.

From where they were standing, they could see the main hall, where the tournament would be held. It was a huge room that looked like an arena, circular in shape and with gradational seats around its edge. In the center, there was a big circle, where the ground had been cleaned the night before. And as the spectators were taking their seats, a big man clad in plate armor was waiting in the middle of the circle.

“That man in the armor is Jiovanni”, Nigel informed Vreil without him even asking. “He is one of our strongest warriors. Looks like he’s in charge of this tournament.”

When most people had taken their seats, Jiovanni spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen”, he shouted, with a voice used to commanding a large number of people. “My name is Jiovanni, and I am in charge of this tournament. You will be lucky enough to have me as your host today”, he smiled at the audience, charmingly. They began laughing, some louder than others.

“Most of you have watched such tournaments before. However, this time, things will be a little different than usual. The instructor of our trainees this year, Mr. Sain, informs me that there are many capable fighters amongst them. But this year, they will not be the only contestants. We have three guests here, who have received permission to participate in this tournament. They are sailors and enemies of the corrupt government as we are. They have committed sins upon this country’s people, but they have repented and requested a chance to atone for them. We have accepted them at our side.

These are three of the most promising new recruits of our newest ally, one who will be of much help when we finally march to war. We thank them for their friendship, and we bravely shoulder the responsibility of helping them help this nation.

Welcome, Black Beard pirates!”