Quexajo strikes first. Akialom blocks the attack with his wooden sword in a horizontal position. The coil impact makes an astonishing tremor in this boat. The ship is rocking in a violent and frantic way. The audience cries in adulation for the both men, delivering the initial engagements. Despite the first interaction of the two fighters, the crowd glues their eyes on both of them - as they are not fazed about the turbulence of the surroundings. Quexajo relaxes himself and so Akialom does. Both men have sheathed their weapons inside their respective replica scabbards.
They exchange with salutations with one another with Quexajo is speaking of the deflection, quoting: “Great reply earlier here, huh? It has been a while since we have seen each other. How’s you been doing in the Level C?“ then Quexajo offers his hand unto Akialom for a handshake gesture. Akialom retaliates in a way that both men enjoy the pleasure of greeting each other. Deriving from the lip movement of Akialom, I assume he is speaking: “Level C? The Old Imperial Ranking? C’mon! I have migrated to Lamenitine. My current ranking is Gold as of now. Equal to Level A. By the way, that beforehand is exemplary, indeed. I know I had it coming.“ speculating Quexajo, he seems happy by the look casting upon his face. The gesture has been established with a tight clasp on each other’s grips. Before they are poised in their initial fighting stance, they bow together after the salutations afterwards.
Several passengers on board capitalize the situation as some of the parley have erected betting tables on the sideline. Most of them are having fun especially, fellow adventurers and military officers and cadets. Captain Pierre’s First Mate, Conrad Maria La Fayette-Santa Cruz, condones the activity to raise the expectation of both competitors. The captain of this ship confronts us, saying: “Afterall, I have a cut to this betting game.” whispering exclusively to us - Lord Sire Gůnthræ Güd and I.
“Cut? A portion of the game? How much do you get, Captain?” Sire Gůnthræ Güd asks in a curious manner.
“Forgive me, your esteemed honor - Lord Gůnthræ Güd. I can’t tell you about that. Let’s say per se a trade secret.” First Mate Conrad Ma. insists on not giving us the details.
“Forty percent (40%)?” I give my estimation, where First Mate Conrad Maria looks at me with a distinct perplexed get up.
“Close.” he answers.
“Anyways, those performers will get their reward after the rendition.” the First Mate promises them, as Lord Gůnthræ Güd and I will be the ones who are the witnesses of his testament.
“How much?” Lord Gůnthræ Güd inserts himself, asking towards the First Mate, as he keeps on his persistent tactical fascination.
“It is a secret, Lord Sire Gůnthræ Güd.” for the second time, our question (technically, I like to know) has not been answered, Conrad Maria La Fayette-Santa Cruz dismisses.
The First Mate then leaves by saying: “Keep on enjoying our service whilst exploring other alternatives to quell your boredom, gentlemen.” right after - Akialom initiates a fiery attack on Quexajo. The slash is coming from an upward motion and then the block is met at the downward movement. Quexajo parries the attack. This moment, each strike is heavier than the previous one. The ship is stable, however, the waves from outside react otherwise. The tremor causes an approximate of an average mortal height - tsunami-wise. What was that, a dry run?
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Several magic artisans help to stabilize the ground, preemptively assisting the weight of the damage in the area. And as of right now, the galley is sailing in a smooth manner, thanks to the mages who have aided. And speaking of Lord Sire Gůnthræ Güd - he is as well participating to carry the laden of the gravity dealt by the weapon clash between those two fighters. While some of the spell artists lend their hands to mitigate the impact of the surface i.e. reinforcing the surface of the deck. Quexajo counters with a kick during the struggle in the sword clashing. Akialom catches the foot with his off hand as he throws it upward. My adjutant then is on the ground, while Akialom is trying to take advantage of the circumstances. Quexajo surprises his opponent by doing a supine kip up - recollecting his footing on the ground. The adventurer administers a two body-length distance away from Quexajo.
The crowd roars: “Quexajo!“ on the side of my trustee, Quexajo… and from the opposite camp cheers: “Akialom!“ otherwise.
With few exchanges having been delivered, however, the tense of the showdown is exhilarating. I secretly praise my brother for showing this one to me. In the art of mock up duels, he is way beyond definitely to some average fencing goers but not on the exact league of Lord Aisla. I realize this because during my days away from home while when we were away from each other - when he was at home, Haganolopolis, and I was in Lüadenstadt at the University of Inglovian Occidental; written on his letters, he was studying naval warfare and maritime interdiction. And around this time, he is not doing nautical stuff but the opposite of it and thus, he also excels from it too. So tell me, Quexajo. Was it another secret from me that you wanted to display, eh?
“Heave ho!” says Quexajo, while he is about to perform a backhand swing complemented by a spinning maneuver.
The assault prompts some tremors from the outside when Akialom decides to catch the attack upfront by meeting with the wooden sword. From his outlook, on the left side, bracing it with his off hand to the tip. The next episode bypasses ahead from the sword clashing as Akialom reacts in opposition to the recoil of the impact. The adventurer then retaliates with his own counterattack by not distancing himself away from Quexajo.
“The arms will concede,” I notice from the wooden swords of the competitors that are about to reach their breaking point, “What will happen next?” as I ask the opinion of Lord Sire Gůnthræ Güd whom I have chatted with earlier.
“I don’t know, Lord Geoff. Because I was not with them when discussing the rules of their match. I simply have nothing to precisely say about that.” Lord Sire Gůnthræ Güd answers and brushes it off.
As to my expression pertaining to the welfare of the wooden swords of both fighters, then later, my concerns have been answered. Two of the volunteers who have detected the state of the weapons, they bolster it and coat it with their magic - wrapping around the cracks, bents, and dents of the current shape of the wooden swords. Unbeknownst to them - the performers, their wooden swords have been back to the initial state from the beginning when they first held the weapons in their hands. Two of the mages look at me as I give them the approval of an ‘OK’ gesture.
And so far, no one is injured. Only the wooden swords wish that their handlers must have some mercy upon them. The arms are about to retire while the users are far away from giving up the match. Those poor swords. Not a single one. There are no words coming out from my mouth to express something about this event showing before me - in my naked eyes.. I render myself speechless and all. Truly, a spectacle in Codemna!