Kichi balled her fists and noticed her hands felt clammy. What was she doing here? The lifelong objective of becoming a knight had pushed her to travel far and risk her life, but this was different. This was just a stupid tournament. What did it have to do with gallantry? This was just a stupid game—a game with consequences.
She took the steps onto the platform, holding the amulet. She wanted to wait till the last second to put it around her neck. In the short time she used it beneath the castle, it had eaten through her energy stores within ten minutes, leaving her ravenous. The trays of fried bread hadn’t come close to satiating her need for food. So, how many minutes could she use it now? She figured half the time would be lucky.
Whitebeard joined her at the edge of the square. “Close your eyes, and I’ll fasten it around your neck. Try to rely on your other senses until you know an attack is coming.”
Before Kichi closed her eyes, she saw the crowd of colorful knights and nobility near the front and the populace of Dunaguard in tattered rags beyond. The sun cast long shadows over the arena. The sound of the crowd was magnified in the deep mountain hollow that cradled the castle. She closed her eyes, and the light turned red through her eyelids.
“They’ve matched you against Yoshiie. He’s one of Marstonics. He’s below an archknight, so you shouldn’t have to worry about Shining Armor.”
“What’s his magic?”
“I’ve seen him at the mountain shrines. That’s all I know.”
Working from the memory before she closed her eyes, she walked towards the center of the square. She guessed she should stop after forty paces, bringing her to the distance where they bow and begin.
Her stomach growled. She was hungry, and even the thought of beef roasted in a thick gravy made her mouth water. Why was she thinking about that when she could be hurt or killed?
She stole a glance before shutting her eyes again. Yoshiie was a willowy man with long hair and a smug grin. She faced askew and turned to face him, hoping no one noticed.
Yoshiie’s boot scuffed the stone. “I’ve never heard of anyone so scared they close their eyes. Shall I nick you and call it a day?”
“I’d like to see you try.” Her words startled her. There was no way he’d actually believe her bravado.
The Duke's voice rose above the din. “Fight with honor.”
Kichi bowed and drew her pure sword. She took a couple of blind steps. She heard a flutter of laughter from the audience. How dare they mock her technique. If it’s good enough for Whitebeard, it’s good enough for anyone. No, she needed to tune them out and focus.
Yoshiie’s sword rasped as he drew it. His footsteps, if any, were drowned out by the crowd.
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She backed away and took a peek.
His guard was down, and his face scrunched into a grin. A second lounge came forward and put the point of his blade into her leg.
She didn’t want to force the fight yet. Yoshiie seemed confident but not foolhardy. He’d test her before a full engagement. She’d found in sparing that the good ones liked to gauge the opponent's skill level as a cook might taste another’s meal to see if it pleases their palate. She closed her eyes, deflected the strike she knew would come, and backed away.
“So,” he said, “this isn’t a joke. Go ahead, then. Let’s see what you can do.”
She began to swing before she even opened her eyes. Yoshiie will deflect my clumsy strike and slice my stomach open.
Her blade moved around his like a stream around a bend and meant to open a gash on his arm. But he was so fast that he adjusted and slipped away. She closed her eyes.
“Impressive. Now, would you like to dance?”
A voice said, “Now.”
Kichi thought it sounded like Whitebeard. She opened her eyes and, this time, kept them open. She was so hungry that her stomach raked at her inside like a wild animal.
Yoshiie flourished his sword and spun an attack like a spider’s web. Perhaps he was the greatest swordsman in the realm. She didn’t know, but she imagined it looked like this. If she didn’t have a glimpse into the future, she wouldn’t last a second.
Lucky for her, she knew exactly where to put her sword and respond. The dance had begun.
The features of his thin face tightened when every thrust sliced air. He increased the tempo, meaning to overwhelm Kichi. The rapidity gave less time to see what was to come. Her shoulder and hand burned. She felt like the energy was lost. I can’t keep going.
Even with foreknowledge, sheer skill outmatched her. The double vision of foresight began to spin. She’d hit a wall.
The sun had dipped low between the towers, and a yellow glow set his sword alight. Her sword kept responding, but it barely felt like her arm was making the movements. He would stab her leg. She moved back. A sword through her neck. She ducked. Swords hit together with a clang, crossed together in a moment of stillness.
Sweat dripped down Yoshiie’s face. “If you can cut me, I’ll yield. You are the best sword I’ve ever met.”
“I will, too,” she said, but she felt like a sham. Would she ever be this good on her own? She decided she’d devote every spare moment to fencing to find out.
His sword slammed into hers, and her arm noodled. The blade whipped back toward her neck.
Kichi
Level: 6
Focus: Prescience
Secondary focus: Lava+1
Weapons: pure sword - 3% pure
Items: Near Field Amulet (Prescience+2, focus)