CHAPTER 16

THE DUKE'S SON

As Mark rode along the dusty road atop his trusty white horse, a voice called out his name. He halted and glanced back to see a young man, barely twenty, riding a brown steed. The youth was lean, with a handsome boyish face that belied the fiery anger in his eyes. "Sir Mark!" he shouted, pulling up beside him and dismounting. Mark mirrored his actions.

"Sir Mark, do you know who I am?" the young man questioned, anger burning in his eyes.

"Can't say that I do," Mark replied. "I do have a problem with self-induced amnesia..."

"I'm Johannes, son of Duke Alexander the Third of Flamenstein," the young man declared, his voice heavy with bitterness.

Mark furrowed his brow in thought. "That name does ring a bell..."

"It should. You were the one who executed my father under orders from Archon Anthemios," Johannes spat, his words dripping with venom. "You snuck into our ducal palace and ended his life on false charges of treason against the Archon."

Mark sighed deeply. "As I've mentioned already, I suffer from memory loss. I can't recall if your father's execution was justified or not. However, I bear no grudge against you and have no desire to engage in combat."

"But I do!" Johannes roared, drawing his sword. "Prepare to defend yourself!"

Johannes lunged at Mark, but Mark effortlessly dodged the attack. "Kid, you're only going to hurt yourself," Mark sighed. Undeterred, Johannes slashed again, but Mark easily evaded his blows, further fueling Johannes' frustration. With a horizontal swing of his sword, Johannes aimed for Mark, but Mark swiftly countered with a punch to his face, sending Johannes sprawling to the ground. Struggling to rise, Johannes spat blood.

"It ain't over yet!" Johannes screamed defiantly.

"Kid," Mark said calmly, "you're a novice. I could knock you out without even using my sword. Heck, I'd bet I could take you down blindfolded. Give up before you get hurt."

Ignoring Mark's warning, Johannes charged with a roar. Mark sidestepped the attack and shoved Johannes with his elbow, sending him crashing to the ground once more. As Johannes attempted to rise, Mark delivered a swift kick to his face, sending blood spraying into the air. "Give up," Mark urged.

Johannes rose defiantly. "Never! I'll never give up. I'll either avenge my father or die trying!" With determination blazing in his eyes, he charged at Mark once more. This time, Mark drew his blade as well. He effortlessly parried Johannes' strike and launched a counterattack, overwhelming the young man with a flurry of powerful blows. With a forceful downward slash, Mark's sword struck Johannes' so hard that it slipped from his grasp. Taking advantage of the opening, Mark delivered a series of blows to Johannes' face with the pommel of his sword, breaking the young man's nose and causing him to stagger back.

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"You're just a pampered noble playing hero," Mark rebuked sternly. "You're no fighter. You're only embarrassing yourself. Stop, or I won't go easy on you."

Tears welled in Johannes' eyes as he wiped the blood from his broken nose, grabbed his sword from the ground, and launched another attack. Mark deftly parried the strike and countered with a slash of his own, grazing Johannes' cheek and drawing blood. Though he could have easily ended the fight, Mark chose not to kill him.

Johannes stepped back, letting out a defiant cry. "I won't give up!"

"You're being foolish…"

Johannes struck once more, but his attacks were clumsy and easy to parry. Mark toyed with him for a few minutes, allowing Johannes to slash and thrust only to be easily deflected. But eventually, Mark grew impatient and delivered a powerful blow that sent Johannes' sword flying from his hands once again. Defenseless, Johannes was at Mark's mercy. Instead of using his own sword, Mark kicked Johannes, sending him crashing to the ground with a loud thud.

As Johannes struggled to rise, Mark picked up the fallen sword. "Nice blade," he commented. "Too bad you don't know how to use it." With a mocking laugh, he tossed it to Johannes. The young man attempted to catch it, but it struck him on the head and sent him stumbling to the ground once more. "You can't even hold onto your sword, yet you still want to challenge me? Pathetic."

Despite his exhaustion, Johannes managed to stand again, his hands trembling as he gripped the sword. "I won't give up. I will avenge my dad."

Mark felt a pang of sympathy for the determined youth. He had hoped to dissuade him from pursuing vengeance by humiliating him repeatedly, but Johannes refused to yield. Mark couldn't help but admire his fiery spirit. Sheathing his blade, he spoke calmly. "It's over. You can't defeat me. Go back, train for a few years, and then we can have a rematch. I promise."

"No!"

Once more, Johannes charged, only to be met with a punch from Mark that sent him tumbling to the ground. Undeterred, Johannes rose again and charged, only to be kicked back down by Mark. Rising once more, his eyes still filled with determination, Johannes declared, "I may die, but I won't give up. We of the Vackerberg dynasty are not cowards. I won't dishonor my father."

"Kid, I'm getting tired of this. I don't have all day to waste with you."

As Johannes slashed at him, Mark swiftly punched him in the chest, halting his attack. The force of the blow left Johannes gasping for breath. Seizing him by the hair, Mark rained down punches on his face, one after another. "Are you giving up yet!?" Johannes stubbornly spat out a refusal, so Mark continued his assault. Johannes's face was left bloodied and bruised, and fearing he might kill him, Mark ceased the barrage and instead flung him to the ground.

Johannes struggled, but managed to get to his feet. He tried to grip his sword, but it slipped from his weakened grasp. Attempting to retrieve it from the ground, he found himself lacking the strength to do so. Collapsing onto the ground, too exhausted to move, he began to cry and sob uncontrollably. "I'm such a disappointment!" he screamed. "My father never really liked me," he admitted. "He always called me a weakling. He was right. I can't even avenge his death. What kind of a man am I?"

"An idiot," Mark harshly replied. "You knew you didn't stand a chance against me, yet what did you do? Did you seek out a sword master to teach you proper swordsmanship, so that perhaps in the future you could challenge me on equal footing? No. Instead, you came after me with your inadequate skills, fully aware that I could easily defeat you. That's not bravery; that's stupidity. Despite being repeatedly bested, did you consider accepting defeat, improving your skills, and returning in the future to seek revenge? No, instead you recklessly threw away your life by foolishly attacking me again and again. You are indeed an idiot, through and through."

Johannes nodded. "You're right. I accept my defeat, but this isn't the end. I'll train hard and return to best you."

Mark chuckled. "I'll be waiting, but don't hold your breath. It's better than throwing away your life here, though. Good luck."

With that, Mark mounted his horse and rode off, leaving a battered Johannes behind. Such is the life of a wanderer – always on the move.