"Son of a-" Don barely got his sword in place to block his opponent's first strike.

His time in the armory had been spent the same way as before, pretending to sleep. As such, nothing of note happened. He didn't really have much to think about with regards to his next match either, his first opponent was just an idiot.

'Onetwo three fourfive six!'

'Idiot' was a word he could not use to describe this opponent though. He probably wasn't the most powerful swordsman based solely on that fact that Donovan wasn't outside the ring yet, but he could probably last a few seconds against Titanyana running full tilt. Actually, that might have been an overestimation. He didn't really know how Titanyana would fight someone like him, so there was every possibility she had some method that would guarantee a kill on the first pass.

Donovan, inexperienced and lacking one of the fundamental tools to mount an offensive, had no such option. He and Titanyana had independently surmised that the only way he was going to come out on top was if he could defend long enough to exhaust his opponent's reserves. Either that or they would have to make a massive mistake, like the moron before had.

Don sent out an elbow towards his opponent's ribs when they managed to get into something like a blade lock, only to find his opponent had already backed away to get in a better position to strike.

That was Don's problem, speed. The blows were heavy, but he could bear to take them without faltering. The more important part was that he could tell where his opponent was striking, but that should have been easy to guess considering that he even had the chance to block. In all honesty, this guy's speed simply didn't match what Titanyana was capable of even during their practice matches.

That didn't magically make him able to strike back though. No, he was only able to practice striking with Titanyana because she let him get the strike off, even if she didn't let it land. Here he was just being oppressed. He might get the occasional swing off, but his opponent was already out of his range and preparing a counterattack by the time his blow would have caught him if he stayed still.

Don's opponent tried a low blow to his legs, something which Don had a bit more time to block given the distance to the target. Capitalizing on whatever he could, Don attempted to shoulder check his opponent around the moment of impact in order to knock him off balance, but he only ended up giving him a little bit more momentum as he moved away. Even if he stumbled to the ground, Don just wasn't fast enough to capitalize on it.

Pursuit had been ruled out as an option the moment the match started, and he had the discipline to follow that ruling even if it looked enticing. There was little doubt in his mind that he would end up overextended somehow, made an easy target for his opponent's blade. Mounting a desperate defense was about all he could do.

He dodged four slashes in rapid succession.

Even Don could move his limbs and body out of the way of such telegraphed attacks so long as he was -

1. In a position to see them coming

2. At the limits of his opponent's range

3. Sufficiently balanced

Not exactly the longest list, but he was surprised by the frequency with which it could not be fulfilled. His opponent was doing an excellent job keeping Don within his range of attack while simultaneously doing everything in his power to disrupt Donovan's stance. Donovan had to admit what he was doing was working too.

Perhaps if his opponent wasn't quite so wary about a counterattack that wasn't coming he would play his cards a bit more aggressively, but against who he could see was at minimum a competent opponent it was an effective strategy. The only flaw Donovan could see with it was that this strategy would fall apart once he eventually faced someone faster than him, which Donovan was starting to realize just meant he lose anyways.

Speed seemed to be more important in a duel than Titanyana had emphasized, perhaps because she was so fast it didn't seem like that big of a deal to her. Well, Donovan was currently the slowest kid on the block, and duels were a sprint. Victory was a far off goal for him, he just wanted to see how long he could last at this point. Just as Trebar had said it would be, this was proving to be excellent practice for him, and he was finally starting to piece together some of the techniques Titanyana had shown him into fluid motions.

These were strictly defensive techniques of course, but he felt the fact he was making any progress was cause for celebration.

Don felt the sting of air making contact with his nerve endings as his opponent retreated once more. It was a shallow cut on the back of his hand, but the fact he had taken a damaging hit told him that he was either succumbing to fatigue or his opponent was piecing together how to break his defense. He could hold his own against a heavily restrained Titanyana well enough during spars, but actual combat had proven to be a different beast entirely.

Still, Don wasn't going to throw in the towel just because of a small gash on his hand. It might hurt, but he would prefer to have experience fighting with pain so he wouldn't falter when it mattered. Besides, he didn't need to worry about infection or anything like that, he would return to being perfectly healthy once the match was over.

"Fucker!" Donovan swore to himself as his opponent assumed a position to stab. In theory he could block that attack, he had practiced with Titanyana, but he wasn't good at it yet. Keeping his sword above his head and pointing towards the floor, Don prepared to parry. He would have a very small window, but hopefully his opponent wouldn't try to juke him with a delay.

shing tock

Don managed to successfully divert the blade, even managing to land an elbow on his opponents chin as he did so. Unfortunately, doing so meant he got cut on the lower abdomen. His opponent's sword was longer than he gave it credit for, though fortunately the wound didn't look too deep. It was more bleeding though, and more pain. Donovan could rest easy knowing that he had managed to land a good hit though, he didn't just succumb to his opponent's attacks without ever getting a chance to retaliate.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

For a moment there was a pause in the action. His opponent, a little dazed from the blow to his chin, rubbed his lip to find blood coming from his mouth. It took him a second to realize that Donovan had indeed been the cause, but he didn't seem mad about it. If anything, he looked impressed.

"Good hit." His opponent bobbed his head in approval. Clearly the damage he had taken from the exchange wasn't as insignificant as it might have appeared.

Donovan nodded in response, his inexperience not permitting him to drop his stance. "Thank you."

Taking a second to settle back into his stance, his opponent returned the nod. He had acknowledged Donovan as a worthy adversary, even if he wasn't a match in skill. "Didn't think I would take this long to kill someone who isn't using split."

There was a little bit of shock in Donovan's mind, but for he most part he understood that it would be easy to tell he wasn't fighting in a way someone who had split would. "I can explain later."

"Eh, I don't much care. I'm sure you have your reasons." His opponent tapped his blade against his forearm three times before moving forward to engage Donovan again. Evidently that was some sort of signal that he was starting, but Donovan hadn't learned about it from Titanyana.

A slash at Don's head followed by a thrust at his leg, the first was blocked and the second dodged, but the strikes just kept coming. A series of attacks focused on his abdomen, alternating which side they were coming from, followed by a twirl. The purpose of this spinning motion was the same as any other, to build up the speed in the blade for another attack.

Titanyana had taught him two ways to respond to this, as he was too slow at this point to be able to effectively counter it. Which one he decided was entirely up to what he felt was right in the moment, but it was most definitely a case of 'do as I say not as I do' with Titanyana. Her smaller stature and higher speed permitted her to 'chase' the blade, keeping herself in a position that couldn't be hit as she attacked.

The option he would not go with was to step into his opponent's reach. It was just a feeling, but the momentum he seemed to have suggested that he would step away from Donovan to complete the turn instead of towards him. That meant the better option was to step backwards and get the hell out of his range so he didn't have to block a full power swing.

WOOSH

That proved to be the correct decision as the blade passed inches away from where his chest was. There wasn't a chance Donovan would have blocked that without his own sword being pushed back, letting the enemy sword bite into his body. Each second that passed left him wishing more and more that he had the ability to use split, if only so he had the ability to take an advantage of the opening his opponent had just given him.

But it didn't stop there. His opponent knew he missed by principle of his blade not encountering resistance, so he followed up by carrying that momentum and swinging the blade over his head in a downward slash. He wouldn't normally do that but, well, Donovan just stepped backwards in a hurry. Donovan didn't have the positioning or power to capitalize on this opening either.

He could still move sideways, though he had to commit to some form of deflecting angle with his sword so the blade didn't catch his leg.

PANG

The sword bounced off of Donovan's sword, most of the energy having been taken by how Don rested the blade against his upper arm. It was a close shave, almost literally, but Don still had his leg. His hands were starting to get numb though, something he realized would be a problem once he noticed his opponent making moves to attack his exposed belly.

Another clash of metal, another diverted strike. It wasn't all good news though, Don had once again been cut a little bit. Even if he wasn't bleeding too much from it, damage was damage, and fighting through pain exhausted him mentally. Right now he controlled the 'interior', meaning he didn't need to move his blade as far as his opponent did. Just because it was fast didn't mean it was easy though, especially when he needed to get into more powerful stances to ensure his blade actually blocked like it as supposed to.

Sensing another attack from the top, Donovan grabbed the blade of his sword with his left hand, leaving his right on the handle, and brought it above his head. He had better leverage this way, even if it meant taking a particularly strong blow could end up cutting through his glove. After the strike from above, Don blocked two more to either side of his body before he screwed up.

"Damn-"

Because of the way he was holding his sword, he didn't have the reach to deflect a stab in time, leading to a metal spike being inserted into his lower left pelvic region. He could tell immediately something important had been struck because he couldn't feel his leg anymore. Still, it wasn't immediately fatal, at least to a Terran. This was something his opponent didn't seem to be aware of, or maybe he had just gotten confident after landing a solid blow, but he didn't immediately remove his sword and back away like he should have.

Once again Donovan found it unfortunate that he didn't have access to split, because although he had the drop on his opponent he still couldn't swing the sword fast enough to land a killing blow.

That said, he didn't escaped unscathed. There was a mighty gash across the front of his body from his left shoulder to the top of his belly, bleeding but not fatal. It just wasn't deep enough. Donovan was in much worse shape.

"Come on, I ain't dead yet." He managed to get it out without sounding like he was in too much pain, but there was little be could do to stop what was at this point the absolute river of blood flowing down his leg and onto the ground. Factoring in how fast his body was growing cold, it was safe to say his femoral artery had indeed been severed.

His opponent, the honorable individual he seemed to be, obliged his request and once more set upon Donovan with the intent to kill.

Don was beginning to weaken though, and every attack did some damage even when Don blocked it. By the time he began to lose consciousness, Don had guess three minutes had passed since the stab.

- - - - -

The feeling of being transported out of the ring because he was on the dying end was certainly a strange feeling, but it didn't seem too unfamiliar. He had already done it before, when his body was reconstructed.

An admirable struggle.

The jump from almost unconsciousness to being fully awake and alert was probably the worst feeling, even more so than the lingering phantom pain of his battered body.

"Good fight."

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, well fought." Donovan took a moment to catch his breath as his opponent approached. He was in the black ring this time around, so his opponent needed to walk this way to get back in the armory anyways. "Sorry if I wasn't as strong an opponent as you would have liked."

"Don't sweat it. You strike me as an amateur, no offense."

"None taken, still just a trainee. Hell, I can't even use split yet."

"Yeah, well, that's something that will come with time. I'm looking forward to our duel once you've actually got a way to fight back."

With that, Donovan's opponent left, waving farewell as he went.

Keeping an eye on the back of his first real opponent, Donovan turned to the enforcer to ask a question. "Which way do I go to exit, sir?"