“I forfeit.” Bruce rasped, collapsed in the sand.

His staff was a bit worse for wear, and so was his sword, his rope dart, his mace, his axe, and every other weapon he had with him. They were still intact (thanks to enchantments), but they definitely looked like they gained a year’s worth of usage.

He was also a bit worse for wear, the skin between his thumb and fingers split on both hands, covered in a greasy film of sweat and sand, arms tattooed with bruises.

Theo, however, was not.

Well, not for long anyway.

He stood back up, using Rest to heal a gash that almost severed his arm. Iron Bones held his broken ribs in place as those were also healed.

He sighed. “I accept.” A fine layer of mossy stone cracked and fell of his skin, joining a small mound of similarly coloured dust and gravel that had begun mixing with the sand, turning it a more sickly green-grey.

Theo wished Bruce still had the energy to spar, but seeing his body flopped on the ground it was clear that the only way to get him in fighting shape any time soon was to change the definition of the word ‘soon’.

Yet it was important for him to keep going.

He had felt on the brink of something, as they went round after round.

A spark of inspiration that was both madness and freedom.

He was just out of reach, and that was both very motivating and frustrating. He shook his head.

Theo stretched, joints popping as he twisted and arched his back.

He wiped the sweat off his brow with the rag formerly known as his sleeve, and took a moment to breathe and return to a world what wasn’t just him, Bruce, and combat.

Jenny ran up and tackled him in a flying bear hug, and it took everything in him not to respond with violence.

“You did awesome!” She praised.

Theo waved it off, like every other compliment. “I only won through attrition. I didn’t win any actual fights.”

That was true.

Even though Bruce gave up and forfeited, it was only after round after round of Theo being defeated and beaten and thoroughly countered.

That was another reason Theo didn’t want it to end already - his skills still weren’t good enough to actually win against Bruce.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Now, admittedly he had improved as he went (and the length of the rounds increased likewise), but there was a reason he was wearing almost nothing while Bruce still had clothes on.

Speaking of which, Jenny let go, and pulled out a set of clothes. It was the generic uniform they’d found in the baths.

“Here.” Jenny gently placed them in his arms, getting close enough to whisper in his ear. “Don’t want anyone seeing you so exposed. That’s for me alone to see.”

She gave him a chaste peck on the cheek as Theo tried to not blush.

“Okay, I’m assuming you’re also going to tap out, so pleas-“

“I want to keep going.” Theo interrupted Natalie, who was clearly not expecting that respond.

There was a stunned silence.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“I want to keep going. Fight more.” Natalie looked as if someone had told her the sky was made of seashells…and then it turned out that they were right.

“Okay, I didn’t hear you wrong. Would anyone like to spar?” She announced and soon Simo made his way into the circle.

---

Simo was smaller than him, specialised in ranged weaponry, and didn’t seem to have much internal magic.

Even so, Theo found himself stuck in a chokehold for the third time.

Simo had deftly climbed up his body the first chance he had, and used his size to navigate easily into a position from which he could execute a chokehold. Ever since then, Theo had fixed bad habits and made improvements to his fighting style.

Ever since, Theo had been yet to successfully escape the chokehold.

He’d managed to land a few successful strikes, even having the upper hand at times, but it always ended with him in being denied air, as Simo used arms and legs to choke him out over and over again.

Theo tapped Simo’s bicep when breathing became something he was painfully aware of (mostly through its absence), and Simo let go.

“All good?” Simo asked, the same way he’d asked every time Theo that this result had occurred.

“Yeah.” Theo lied, wheezing.

Physically he was fine, but mentally he was getting angrier and angrier.

Every time Simo won, it was one more taunt that he didn’t know how to handle. One more frustration and thing to work on.

At least this time, he reminded himself, it was clear what the problem was.

Chokeholds only work if you need to breathe.

Theo wracked his brain for anything that could help, any solutions that made his body (which, in its current state admittedly had a lot of functions supplemented with mana) able to work without oxygen.

It wasn’t until two more chokeholds later that he realised Endless Song reduced the need for breathing while singing.

He wondered if it only applied while singing.

So, one more round with Simo to fig-

“I’m done. I also forfeit the survival round.” And just like that, Simo left, just as Theo figured out a solution for a problem no longer at the top of the triage list.

He didn’t blame Simo for forfeiting the survival round without even trying – fighting a ranged attacker would not help him in the way that he wished, and he had an inkling that Simo would feel the same.

It didn’t stop him from getting pissed off.

“Okay, let’s keep going.” Theo gestured to Natalie, as Jenny marched into the arena.

“You will not!” She yelled at him, glowering as best she could. As she was taller than he is, it was a rather effective stink eye.

“Why not?” Theo snapped back.

Looking at Jenny, at the way anger swept her tears under the rug and pretended the lumps were supposed to be there, Theo immediately regretted what he said.

He stayed silent as he followed Jenny to the sidelines.

“Are you okay?” He eventually asked, after she pretended he didn’t exist for a while, instead pointedly focusing on whoever was sparring long enough to school her features.

“Are you?” Was her witty retort. “You’re pushing yourself so hard, and for what?”

Theo thought back to that feeling, the way his body almost flowed as one with the world, the glimpse of unadulterated momentum.

“I have a hunch I need to explore.”