THE FIGHT THAT ALMOST WAS

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I had let him think that.

I saw the moment it clicked—the shift in his stance, the tightening of his grip, the slight narrowing of his gaze.

He wasn’t looking at me like prey anymore.

He was looking at me like I had played him.

Like I had been in control the entire time.

And for the first time—Skarn hesitated.

I pressed in, my blade a breath away from his throat—

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🚨 Then he moved back.

Not retreating. Not stumbling.

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Pulling away.

His warband responded instantly, their defensive line tightening, disengaging in unison.

I watched as Skarn exhaled, rolling his shoulders, considering.

Then—he smirked.

Not in anger. Not in frustration.

In acknowledgment.

A final glance. A slow nod.

Not of surrender. Not of defeat.

But of recognition.

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💭 Not today. But soon.

And then he turned.

His warband moved with him, fading into the landscape, disappearing over the horizon.

Silence settled over the battlefield.

I let out a slow breath, my body aching in ways I wasn’t ready to admit.

Then, quietly, I made a decision.

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💭 I need to be stronger.

Not just smarter. Not just more strategic.

Much, much stronger.

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> "Told you buddy… Motto motto stronger kudasai!"

Fred’s voice rang out in my mind. His usual snark aside, he was right.

Because this? This fight?

It had been too close.

I clenched my fist.

Next time—I couldn’t just be clever enough to survive.

Next time, I would need to win outright.