Turael stiffened as Gustan entered the sparring ring, the quartman has never lost a match against Turael in the past.

Quartmen are a subrace of rockmen who have consumed enough mana quartz that their bodies naturally flow the energy through their carapace.

For that point, rockmen are the other subterranean race on this continent, being a purely undeground race they don't have eyes instead they can generally sense their surroundings within 10m of themselves, through a combination of touch, smell and hearing.

Their bodies are completely covered in a rugged shell made of a stone material, their teeth are as durable and hard as diamonds.

and the older the rockman the more resistant their shells become, However the evolution that an old rockman becomes is a Metalman or crystalman

Of course dependant on the predominant food they eat, Quartmen are the unique pathway which allows a Rockman to use magic.

Bringing his thoughts back to the spar at hand, Turael was almost ready to forfeit the bout when Gustan spoke up.

"Aye, aye, it be the youngen, How have ya been? haven't fought against ya for a small while." His tones reverberated through the earth with an inhumanly deep tone.

Turael replied "Yes It would be at least 5 moons since you came to the ring to spar guard captain, Though I more found it a blessing since I have never won against you, and it shouldn't be possible to win in the first place either." His tone exhausted from his endurance matches against the 9 other guards.

"Nonsense, even if you didn't study nearly as hard ya would still have a place in the guards, easily." Gustan replied before continuing

"Besides, you ain't even a dult yet, be a fools game to guess what ya potential is."

True to Gustan's words Turael was only 10, old enough to be allowed to train with weapons, certainly, but not a fully grown Dark elf.

As dark elves matured over a long span of 30 years, many theories were around this maturation period of a dark elf's life.

Whether it was due to the specialty organs that the dark elf would obtain after growing to a certain extent or the ambient mana suffusing their bodies requiring an adjustment period.

None of it particularly mattered in the end, Turael would eventually grow into a formidable fighter even without any specialties or talents.

That was ultimately one of the more dangerous aspects of the dark elves.

"Still that doesn't matter right now, since you are my sparring partner." Turael rebutted exasperated by Gustan's abject refusal of a surrender

The older being looked down on Turael before assuming his combat stance, legs wide and hammer in his hands counterbalancing his torso that was leaning back, waiting for Turael to move.

Gustan wasn't wearing armor, it was considered shameful for a Rockman to do so let alone a Quartman. Of course this was sparring so there would be no magic used since Turael couldn't use it, Turael could only imagine the pain he would be in if he did one day learn magic and Gustan challenged him.

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Turael also didn't wear armor, It didn't suit him since his biggest strengths was motion, adding the armors bulk would slow him too much to deal with Gustan.

Turael took a stance with all four main limbs on the floor and his practice sword held in his tail, the coils holding the sword by the guard then running down the hilt.

The two stared eachother down, Gustan waiting for the slightest movement, Turael thinking of how to combat the superior foe in front of him.

Turael took the first action, dashing closer to Gustan before digging his hands into the soft dirt of the training grounds, swinging his hips around and then torqueing his tail to deliver a spinning thrust towards Gustan's gut.

Gustan reacted a single moment later, he leaned forward bringing the hammer as high above his head as he could and as Turael dashed forward he swung down, Missing Turael as he stopped early on the other hand Turael's sword was slammed into the earth with a deafening crash before Gustan took a step forward and attempted a sideways sweep of the hammer in his hands.

Turael pushed off the floor with all his limbs, feeling the shock in his tail and feeling the tremor of the hammer strike from earlier, his limbs shuddered.

A massive gust of wind passed underneath him as he executed a strike to the hammer's handle. Once upon a time, Turael though he could strike the wrist to disarm the Quartman, The weapon broke on that occasion.

Spinning his torso by kicking off the floor, yet again Turael executed an attack with high speed rotations involved, this time however, the weapon was held straight and firm, using his own body as the force battery before unleashing the built speed towards Gustan's hammer handle.

Gustan could feel the wind change on his stony skin and could hear the repetitive whump whump whump of the wooden training sword cutting through the empty air, he could feel the jumps Turael took to increase the force of his spin, and he felt the shock travel up his arms when the sword contacted with his hammer's handle, He flexed his arms to bend the handle against Turael's attempts to shear through the handle, moving the shock from the weapon to himself, the wood of both weapons screamed against eachother before Turael was repelled and landed back on all fours. He could smell the exhaustion coming from the youth, fighting 9 of the middle members of the Guards and winning repeatedly was very taxing on his body, he felt the trembles that Turael had developed from the 2 attacks he had made.

Turael couldn't see a way to win, The only thing he though to do, to disable the force advantage of the captain's weapon, had failed.

He was in a cold sweat, all momentum build over his twisting movements was killed after he struck the hammer, worst part was Turael didn't know how he stopped that strike. Everything that Turael had known told him the hammer should be broken from such a strike.

But he didn't have the luxuries to think about it, Gustan capitalised on Turael's shock stepping closer to once again perform an overhead strike.

Turael reacted a moment later by holding his sword with his hands, each hand on the far sides of the weapon, tilting his body and bracing the sword to be pushed out of the dangerous arc of that hammer.

Then Gustan took a second step.

The hammer suddenly curved from its downwards trajectory eliciting a grunt of exertion from Gustan before everything when black for Turael.