----------------------------------------

I had to admit that Tetora wasn't wrong. I had been putting off training, not because I felt it was unimportant, but because I was trying to avoid the upcoming physical conflict in any way possible. Sparring, therefore, was just a reminder that I was losing that battle.

You groaned just now, didn’t you?

No?

Ah, right. You want to hear about the outcome of our clash. Got it.

There was no way our session would be private. A crowd quickly formed, scrambling to create a wide circle around us. Relias, however, stood still between Tetora and me. He glanced about, concern filling in his features. His shoulders stiffened, then slumped, as Tetora’s piercing glare locked onto him. After a moment, he sighed and stepped back into the audience, taking his place next to Nora, Vernie, Aleph, and a very watchful Captain Sonea. With all eyes on us, I had no way to protest.

Tetora took a few practice swipes with his iron claws before readying them in front of him. As he advanced, the blessed iron set gleamed in the midday sun, his face locked in a predatory scowl that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

He’s serious this time!

I adjusted my grip on the Faith of Euphridia, opting for it to take the shape of the targe I was already familiar with. Just as we were about to start, however, Aleph, standing several feet higher than those around him, cleared his throat loudly.

“Tetora. A moment, if you would?”

Tetora spent a second or two ignoring him, although I could tell by the irritated way his ears twisted that it would be a false start. A low growl escaped him as his curiosity got the better of him. “What now?” he demanded.

Aleph made his way to the outer edge of the crowd and stopped a few paces away, arms crossed. “You’re planning to use your claws?” he asked, his tone mild, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

Tetora’s ear twitched and lowered. “Of course. They’re my weapon of choice!”

Aleph shook his head. “You’re not fighting as yourself. You’re sparring to prepare her for the demon general. He doesn’t use claws. He fights with a two-handed blade.”

The crowd began to murmur, heads nodding as some seemed to agree with Aleph, even though I was confident they had never laid eyes on Ragnerus to confirm that observation.

Tetora straightened, his tail flicking behind him in agitation. “I know that,” he said, his tone defensive. “But I’m faster with these, and speed is what she needs to overcome.”

Aleph raised a brow. “Speed is one thing, and technique is another. If she can’t handle the weight and rhythm of a two-handed blade, she won’t last ten seconds against him. You’re a Grandmaster, are you not? Show her what that fight will feel like.”

Tetora opened his mouth to argue but paused, his fur bristling as he considered Aleph’s words. He narrowed his eyes, then huffed. “Fine! But this will slow me down.”

Aleph gave him a faint smile. “Slower doesn’t mean weaker. And it’s not about you. It’s about her.”

Tetora grumbled under his breath, but he began unstrapping his claws. The audience, realizing we were now on full delay, started to become restless. Tetora made a show of removing his claws, his deliberate movements making it clear that he was punishing everyone for the interruption. He muttered something I couldn’t quite catch, but from the sharp flick of his tail, I knew it wasn’t anything important.

Finally, he turned to the crowd and pointed at a loud knight who had taken the short break to complain about the lack of instant entertainment. “You!” Tetora bellowed, silencing the soldier. “Sword. Now!”

The knight flinched, stared at Tetora for a few moments, and then glanced quizzically at Captain Sonea. She nodded once and folded her arms. With an apprehensive sigh, he unsheathed his greatsword from his back, reversed it, and held it out to Tetora. The blade gleamed, showcasing its blessing as Tetora familiarized himself with it.

“Serviceable, I suppose,” he muttered disdainfully before glaring at its owner. “But you need to do a better job polishing it.”

“Y…yes, Grandmaster Tetora,” the knight replied with a squeak.

“Oh?” Captain Sonea called. “Add that to tomorrow’s inspection,” she said to the unfamiliar man beside her. He nodded as he covered his grin. Several other knights squirmed on their feet in response.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Tetora finished testing the sword's weight, holding it in both hands and shifting into a balanced stance. With a self-satisfied smirk, he added loudly, “Exactly what I was planning to do all along.”

Aleph’s lips twitched, but he refrained from commenting.

Tetora turned his sharp gaze back to me. “Ready?”

“Ready.” I nodded, gripping my sword tighter.

“Pay attention to his movements,” Aleph said quietly as he stepped back.

I nodded once again and took a steadying breath as Tetora took his first step forward, his massive blade hissing as it sliced through the air.

“Begin,” Aleph said from the sidelines. Though honestly, we didn’t need the announced formality.

Tetora still moved like lightning. His first swing came in a wide, horizontal arc, the greatsword cutting the air with blurring speed. I raised my shield, the force of the blow rattling through my entire body as he struck. My boots slid across the dirt as I struggled to hold my ground.

First lesson learned. A targe was too small for this situation! At least, for the way I was used to fighting…

He didn’t let up, either. The sheer force behind his attacks was relentless. Unfortunately, it took the shield several seconds to change forms, and that was time I didn’t have. Another strike came, then another, each one heavier and faster than the last. My shield still absorbed the brunt of everything, but every impact sent a fresh wave of pain through my arm. I had to move and overextend it to compensate for its lack of coverage, which strained my already aching muscles.

“You can’t just block forever,” Tetora growled, his voice sharp as another swing crashed into my shield. “The demon general won’t give you a break. Fight back!”

I tried, of course. Even while blocking, I went in for a few flicks with my recently acquired Captain’s blade, an arming sword slightly longer than most variants. The blade glowed faintly blue with every swing, a reminder of its holy blessing. However, I kept pushing back on its power, fearful it would give me an unfair advantage against Tetora’s attacks.

“You may use Amity,” Aleph called from the sidelines, his voice calm but firm.

He was the one who forbade me from using Amity during a spar in the first place!

I hesitated once more, and then Tetora’s next swing crashed against my shield again, forcing me back.

“Now!” Aleph urged. “This is a different fight with a different opponent,” he added as if he could read my mind.

Fine. If that’s what it took!

I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of Amity flood through me. Strength surged through my limbs, and the Faith of Euphridia hummed triumphantly in my mind, its melody sharper and more invigorating than before. When Tetora’s next blow came, I didn’t just block—I deflected it, twisting my overly enthusiastic shield to send his greatsword wide. My counterstrike followed instantly, the blade cutting through the air in an arcing electric blue.

Don’t marvel at the special effects. Focus on the battle!

Tetora darted away at the last instant, but the blue light left a faint scorch mark on the length of his shirt.

He really should invest in some armor. Silk shirts don’t come cheap!

He narrowed his eyes, his movements becoming slower but more deliberate as we clashed again. Sparks flew with our every collision, and with the shield humming a dramatic air of battle, I couldn’t help but think the rhythm of our blows had once again become a dance. With that thought in mind, anticipating him became much easier.

“You’re improving,” Tetora muttered, his voice strained. “But don’t get cocky!”

I tried to smile, but I was fatigued, so I’m pretty sure it came off as some sort of weird grimace. The crowd, however, seemed to approve of our fight, as their cheers became louder with each blow exchanged. Dust began to swirl around us, stirred by our movements and the collective energy of the onlookers.

Maybe I can get him to drop the blade…!

I surged forward, varying my aim. Up toward his head, then his right side, then back to his shoulder before aiming low for his feet. He picked up on my gambit quickly and attempted the same tactic.

Finally, with one last desperate swing, our blades slammed into each other, blue sparks spraying everywhere. The impact sent a jarring shockwave through my arms, and for a moment, we were both still, locked in place, neither of us willing to give an inch. Then, the stalemate broke as we forced ourselves off each other’s frozen blade. I stumbled back, my knees buckling as I partially collapsed, though I kept a grip on my sword and shield.

Tetora dropped a second later, his greatsword clattering to the ground beside him. For a moment, neither of us moved. The air about us was silent except for our ragged breathing. Then, the crowd began murmuring again, and a few knights tried to encourage us to continue.

“It’s not over till someone’s bleeding out!” one shouted, and others laughed.

“Teach the tiger a lesson, Captain!” another called. “You can do it!”

“Enough! This spar has gone too far,” Relias declared as he stepped into the makeshift ring, his glowing hands already summoning healing magic. “What were you two thinking, pushing yourselves like this?”

I glanced at Tetora. His ears flattened against his head as he laughed defiantly, clearly deciding the question was rhetorical. Despite the exhaustion evident across his face, there was a glimmer of approval in his eyes.

“Not bad,” he said finally, his voice rough but genuine. “You might stand a chance.”

From the edge of the circle, the knight who had given Tetora his sword stepped forward hesitantly. “Uh… Grandmaster Tetora, sir,” he began, his voice shaky. “May I… have my sword back now?”

Tetora turned to look at him, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. He tilted his head, inspecting the knight for an uncomfortably long moment before resting a hand on the greatsword’s hilt.

“I never said I was borrowing it,” he said bluntly as he stood to his full height, pulling the weapon with him. His tail swished once before he added with a nasty, tooth-filled grin, “It’s been commandeered. Don’t worry, I’ll put it to good use.”

The knight blinked, his jaw dropping slightly. “But—”

“We’ll do this again on break tomorrow, Rae,” Tetora interrupted, ignoring him. “And again, and again, until we work out all the mistakes we’ve made. Just be ready.”

Does he not know what the word break means?

----------------------------------------