James walked slowly around the dirt ring, his forehead gleaming with sweat as he caught his breath. His left hand clenched around the training shield he was assigned, and his right held a wooden sword that was already beginning to splinter.

He looked ahead at his challenger, whose form was huddled on the other side of the ring. Dahlia had a look of focus that told him that she was already thinking of ways to disarm him. She held out her own sword with both hands, her chest heaving with exertion.

‘On her last legs, eh?’

James stopped his walk, his shield raising as he prepared to rush. He couldn’t use any of his castings or spiritual abilities in this fight. No, this was a test of skill and natural strength. He had no advantage in this fight. Still, that didn’t mean he was completely helpless.

‘Her footwork is off,’ Faust acknowledged. ‘You could take advantage of that.’

‘I doubt it,’ James responded mentally. ‘Dahlia’s smart. She’s definitely feigning weakness in order to entice me.’

‘Not to doubt your lady friend,’ Faust said. ‘But she isn’t exactly all that combat savvy.’

James furrowed his brow. The spirit might have had a point, but he didn’t want to risk it. Dahlia had told him not to go easy on her before the match had started, and James knew better than to doubt her abilities. She, too, had gone through some shit this past year.

‘I could go for a feint of my own, get her to think I’ll exploit her footwork,’ James thought.

‘Ah, but if she isn’t, that gives her more time to counterattack.’

James cursed at that. Another good point.

‘What do you suggest I do then?’

‘You stop thinking and fight,’ Faust simply said. ‘Battle instinct, as barbaric as it sounds, is always better than overthinking an opponent’s ability. Fight and deal with the consequences later.’

James sighed at that but didn’t offer a rebuttal. Instead, he focused on the Shaman and took off. He rushed Dahlia with a sideways swing, his wooden sword whistling as it glided through the air. Dahlia reacted with a block, catching the wooden training weapon with the brunt of her sword. Both weapons clashed with a resounding whack, the vibrations felt by both fighters.

James pulled back and bashed with his shield, offering little time for Dahlia to recover and swing back. She stumbled a little, her grunts signifying that she was struggling with holding him back. James grinned as he shifted once more, pulling his shield back as he moved to her left side.

He was fast, even without the use of his castings. He could feel how the air whipped around him, ruffling his messy hair as he prepared a strike at Dahlia’s side. The Shaman looked at him with wide eyes, her sword still wavering as she tried to turn. In that split second, however, James knew he had won.

Another whack and cloud of dust later, and Dahlia was on the ground outside the ring. She lay on the dirt, wheezing as she tried to catch her breath.

“Oh shit,” James breathed out in surprise. He rushed over to the Shaman to help her sit up, his hands gently grabbing hers. “Did I go too far? Shit, I knew I should’ve—”

“You’re alright,” Dahlia managed out in a breath. She managed to stand just fine, her hands brushing the dirt off her gambeson. “I’m just a bit tired from the constant moving. Not much of a fighter after all.”

“Are you sure?” James asked. He couldn’t help but feel as if he had overdone it.

‘Maybe a sweep or shove would’ve worked better.’

“I’m fine,” Dahlia said with a smile. “If anything, going easy on me would’ve been worse.”

James flushed at that, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “Really?”

“Believe me. The last thing I want is to be coddled like I’m weak,” Dahlia said as she stepped up. She brushed back James’ messy hair, her fingers tying them back into the knot he had on before the fight had progressed. “You need to learn how to tie your hair a bit better. It’s always loose whenever you try it yourself.”

“Well, I—”

“Oi! Will you two lovebirds move it?” Helen called out. “Next round is Seamus and Dirk. Best you two move it!”

Both Jarl and Shaman scurried to the sideline, where they watched the next two fighters walk up to the ring.

Both of them wore thick gambeson and gloves for sparring, their heads protected by a leather helmet that no doubt stunk. James himself had taken off the helmet before his spar with Dahlia in order to reduce the distraction of such a scent. Helen didn’t like it much but couldn’t really complain. She, too, had the same habit of taking off the thing whenever they spar.

Seamus was equipped with a spear and shield, a wooden short sword hanging off his belt. Dirk had a spear and shield himself, along with the sword.

Both men eyed each other as they stepped in, their shields raising as they stood on opposite sides of the ring. There was a tense air on the training grounds, every trainee around watching with anticipation.

Apparently, despite this being an off day for most guardsmen, many had wanted to come to watch the Jarl and his close allies spar in the ring. This also included the orcs from Silas and Horuk’s crew, who watched on with curious gazes.

James could see how there was a young trainee running around taking bets from orcs and guardsmen alike. However, most of them declined to bet. They all knew how one-sided this fight was to begin with.

Even if Seamus had tried to hide it, everyone in Yorktown knew of his ability and skill. James himself had a taste of it when both of them had clashed earlier that year when the younger man was under the influence of a dreamweaver. Seamus was deadly, there was no doubt about it.

On the other hand, there was Dirk Andal. A young man, barely nineteen, who had joined the guardsmen not long after the Siege of Yorktown. As young as he was, he was technically a veteran amongst the Raven guard. He had fought Lumen soldiers and survived through the Battle for Yorktown and Vindis.

Dirk had come a long way and it was clear he wasn’t the same kid James had trained with all those months ago. He was taller, broader, and had a couple new scars on his cheek and hands. He was a fighter now. Still, that didn’t mean he was on the same level as Seamus.

“Are you two ready?” Helen called. Both men nodded. James watched with anticipation, his hand accepting the waterskin offered by Kate, who was watching alongside him and Dahlia.

“Fight!”

Seamus and Dirk raised their shields, their feet shuffling as they stared at each other. At first, there were no sudden movements or rushes. Both men were simply waiting for the other to make the first move. Right when it looked as if this would be the whole match, Dirk finally started.

The guardsman stepped with a thrust, his spear’s round bit striking the top of Seamus’ shield. In response, Seamus thrusted his own spear. It glanced off Dirk’s own protection, hitting nothing but air. For a moment, the two had their stances open, their shields shifting to protect the areas that were threatened.

Then Dirk made his move. He quickly swung his spear’s tip back to Seamus, who barely had enough time to move his wooden disk in place. However, the strike never came. Dirk had feinted the stab, his body moving as he quickly pulled the spear back and bashed his shield against Seamus’ own. Seamus fought against the bash, his arm moving to strike back with his own shield. Dirk took the opportunity to pull away, making Seamus stumble in place.

Dirk thrust his spear toward Seamus, who barely dodged the attack. He had to drop low to the dirt to avoid it, his hands leaving both shield and spear on the ground in order for him to quickly dodge the follow-up attack that came a second later. Seamus rolled on the dirt for a moment before he sprung onto his feet. He pulled out his short sword right then and there, watching as Dirk carefully approached.

“He’s done for,” Kate muttered next to James.

With no spear and shield, Seamus was defenseless against Dirk’s range and couldn’t rush the young guard with that shield in the way. He was in an unfavorable position. Regardless, James wasn’t worried. He knew better than to think that it was over.

Seamus stood up a bit straighter, his breath coming out in a puff of steam. He held the sword in both hands, his feet positioning himself in a familiar stance. James knew exactly what was coming.

Dirk made the wise decision to defend himself, his shield raising as he watched Seamus with anticipation. His spear wavered, ready to hold off any attempts. Yet it wouldn’t matter. Seamus rushed ahead with his sword, its length a blur as he swung it at Dirk’s shield. The young guardsmen tensed up at the oncoming strike, ready to take it on. It never came.

Seamus skidded on the dirt in a sudden stop, his sword pulling back to its previous place. At the same time, Dirk’s blunt spear hit the air in front of him.

‘They both feinted?’

Seamus had bluffed enough to make Dirk think he was going to attack head on, which the guardsmen took as a chance to fake a defensive move. He had sidestepped when Seamus swung, his spear moving to exploit it. Yet Seamus had decided to fake his own attack as well, possibly hoping for Dirk to defend himself in response.

Both men had feinted their moves, resulting in neither getting hit. Now, they made each other open to attack. The faster one would prevail.

Seamus quickly swiped with his sword, the edge striking Dirk’s midsection. Despite layers of protection, the guardsman stumbled back with a grunt of pain, his arms wavering as he tried to swing back in retaliation. Seamus sidestepped the attack, his sword swinging again. He hit Dirk’s right arm, making him drop the spear.

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The guardsmen let out a shout before he stepped back, his shield raising. Seamus rushed regardless, his strikes sounding out as he hit the shield. Dirk was being pushed back to the ring’s edge with no option of recourse. He couldn’t even take out his sword without fear of opening himself up to Seamus’ attacks, which were relentless.

‘He lost,’ James thought. ‘No surprise there.’

‘Well, let’s not discredit guardsmen Andal here. He held his own pretty well against Seamus,’ Faust commented.

Before James could even agree with the sentiment, the fight took a turn.

Dirk timed one of Seamus’ attacks, his shield slapping the sword away. Without warning, the young guard threw his shield at his opponent. Seamus quickly dropped to avoid getting hit, leaving Dirk with enough time to unsheathe his sword and risk a wild swing.

At first, the fight looked to be finished. Dirk had won, and his sword was inbound toward Seamus’ head.

Thwack! Thwick!

A wooden sword flew into the air above the ring, and James watched with surprise as two more strikes sounded out right after. Dirk flew back and landed outside of the ring. His sword came to the ground not a second later, landing near his exhausted body. Seamus stood above, his hand massaging his wrist.

“So fast,” Kate muttered. “I didn’t even see it.”

“The disarming?” James asked. He couldn’t blame her for not seeing it, as Seamus had moved so quickly. He had countered the attack with a quick strike to the sword’s guard. Dirk didn’t have a good enough hold on his weapon, which resulted in the sword flying out of his hand. The rest was straightforward.

“Any of it,” Kate revealed. “I could barely keep up.”

“Really?” James asked with some confusion. That didn’t seem right. He could follow the fight just fine. Had Seamus really been so quick? He didn’t notice it that much until towards the end of the fight.

Seamus headed off to help Dirk up to his feet, who wobbled as he tried to stand.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Dirk said with a laugh. “I could barely keep up.”

The guardsmen all around the ring broke out into murmurs and talking, their conversations all about Seamus and the fight. James even watched as some men took the spoils of their bets whilst a couple watched with a shrug. It looked like this fight’s bet wasn’t as high stakes as some hoped.

“Do you want to go home and get something to eat?” Dahlia asked. James perked up at that, his head swiveling to the Shaman.

“It’d be nice to go spend some time by ourselves,” he said with a grin. He watched as Dahlia flushed red at that.

“It’s still midday,” she whispered.

“I mean, as in a date,” James said with a tilt of his head. Dahlia grew redder at that.

“Oh, of course.” She gave a nervous laugh as she stood up, her hand taking James as they headed off to exit the grounds.

“Hey, wait!” a trainee shouted. James stopped in his tracks, his gaze turning to the young man who had shouted. The trainee was a part of the group that had been taking in bets since the start of the sparring. He was pointing at both James and Seamus, his voice calling out to the rest of the men.

“We want a fairer fight! No one-sided sparring! Something real!” he shouted.

“Yeah!” another shouted. “I want to see Jarl Holter go against Seamus Halvorson!”

“Really?” a guardsman asked. “Jarl Holter will obviously win.”

“Bullshit,” the younger man said. “Seamus is Yorn Halvorson’s blood! It’s clear who’s the victor in that fight.”

More arguing devolved from the request, with more weighing in on the debate. In the end, Helen had to step in.

“Quiet!” she shouted. “That’s enough from you all! Now, unless both want to spar with each other, there’s no way you lot are gonna sanction fights on the grounds!”

“Actually,” James spoke up. “I’ve been kind of wanting to test myself against Seamus for some time. I wouldn’t mind sparring with him, as long as it’s ok with him.”

“I don’t mind,” Seamus said with a shrug. “We can spar.”

James almost seemed surprised by the nonchalance in the younger man’s voice. Just a year ago, Seamus would’ve outright refused to even consider fighting another person, let alone James. Now, however, he held himself with confidence.

“Are you two sure?” Helen asked.

“Positive,” James said. “Just a friendly training session. Nothing too serious.”

“Of course,” Seamus said with a grin. “A quick spar between friends.”

“Alright then,” Helen sighed in defeat as the guardsmen all looked at each other in excitement. “Let’s set up the ring.”

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

Dahlia sat on a nearby bench, her hands clasping onto her waterskin. She took tentative sips from it, her eyes watching the ring in front of her. Around her, trainees and guardsmen alike were hedging bets and placing coins on the table nearby. The bets ranged from scraps of silver to glinting Queen pieces. They all wanted to see this fight.

On opposite sides of the ring, Seamus and James stood with wooden training swords. They wore nothing but light gambesons, their helmets absent. Both had neglected to wear any.

‘I wonder what’s going through their heads.’

James was clearly going over tactics with Faust, trying his best to figure out any weaknesses Seamus had. Seamus was probably thinking the same thing, trying to account for the fact that James had a veteran warrior in his head.

“Approach the ring!” Helen called. Her shout was enough to send the training grounds into hushed whispers. Everyone was watching now.

Both men stepped up the dirt ring, their gazes on each other. James had a sly grin on his face, his expression that of… excitement?

Dahlia never expected James to be the type to enjoy fighting. At least, that’s what she thought.

‘Perhaps there’s more to him I haven’t understood yet.’

Seamus, on the other hand, looked resolute. He was focused on the fight ahead, his body tensing up as he readied his sword.

James did the same, his sword raising as he locked his sights on the other man.

“Ready?”

Both nodded.

“Fight!” Helen’s shout reverberated in the quiet air, the entirety of the grounds watching with anticipation.

At first, there was no movement. Both men stared at each other, their feet slightly shuffling toward each other. Slowly, bit by bit, they approached the center, their gazes locked.

Then, Seamus moved. The dirt in the ring was kicked up into the air, creating a dust cloud as Seamus rushed toward James. The young Jarl barely had enough time to block the attack, his wooden weapon clashing with a resounding whack!

Seamus pulled back from the initial clash, his sword turning into a flash of wood. James blocked again, his right hand twisting the sword to catch the strike. For a brief moment, both of them were close by a few inches, their eyes still locked onto each other. James grinned as he fended off the attack, pushing Seamus back by a couple feet.

Without hesitation, James rushed toward the younger man. Holding his weapon in both hands, he swung quickly. The strike was dodged by Seamus, who ducked under its swing. He struck at James’ hands, the thwack of the hit enough to make everyone cringe in pain, Dahlia included.

James’ sword flew into the air above him, not unlike it did for Dirk. Seamus stepped forward then, his hands swinging the sword back for another hit. It would not come as James kicked the other man back in a move that Dahlia instantly recognized.

‘Gryff.’

James had kicked Seamus in the same way Faust had done to Gryff during their fight last Frost, albeit without the spirit’s boisterous shout of victory.

Seamus stumbled back from the hit, his eyes wide with confusion. In that moment of respite, James quickly caught his sword and rushed forth with another attack, using only his right hand to swing. Seamus quickly blocked the strike with his own sword, deflecting it before he performed a counterattack. It would be for naught.

James caught the attack with his training weapon, catching the sword between where the guard met blade before his fist struck Seamus in a brutal left hook. Seamus stumbled back from the hit, which gave the Jarl enough time to strike again. His wooden sword smacked against Seamus’ weapon, which had risen to block the follow up attack. Despite this, the force of the blow was enough to send Seamus back towards the ring’s edge.

‘James is fighting like Faust,’ Dahlia realized. At first, she thought that James had allowed Faust to fight this for him. Yet she quickly disregarded that possibility. James’ eyes were still normal and she sensed no magic from him. This was the result of his training with the Centurion.

‘Was he going easy on me all that time?’ Dahlia thought back to her spar with him. Compared to now, it was as if he wasn’t even trying with her.

Seamus quickly regained his senses after the last hit and managed to catch the next attack, blocking it with the brunt of his weapon. For a moment in between the clash, both men locked eyes once again. Seamus pulled back and struck again, just as James did the same.

Thwack!

Their swords splintered as they came into contact, the sound echoing around them. They pulled back and did it again, the sound reverberating throughout the training grounds. Dahlia clenched her fists, knowing full well that both men were feeling the vibrations of the clashes. There was no way it was painless.

Crack!

On their third clash, the swords had reached their limits. Their wooden lengths splintered and cracked underneath the pressure, finally breaking. Both James and Seamus stopped there, their gazes on their broken weapons.

“Guess… Guess we overdid it…” James panted, sweat soaking his hair and collar.

“Yes… I suppose so…” Seamus huffed, his face all red.

“Idiots!” Helen called out from the sidelines. “What did I say about clashing swords like that?”

“Got caught up in the moment,” James managed in between breaths. “Guess that’s that.”

“Wait!” one of the guardsmen called out. “Who won?”

Seamus shrugged as he slowly walked off the ring. “I suppose we can call it a draw. I’m not willing to go any further.”

“Same.” James chuckled as he stumbled to a nearby bench.

Groans filled the training grounds, with many of the men complaining about wasted bets and lost potential.

“Quiet, all of yous!” Helen shouted. “I hear another complaint, and everyone here is doing laps!”

That was enough to shut everyone up. Yet Dahlia could still see the smoldering looks they all gave as they grumpily went about their businesses. She sighed before standing and making her way to James, who was drinking what he could from the nearby barrel of water.

“Nice fight,” she said as she approached. James raised his head from the barrel, his face wet as he tried to wipe it dry with a sleeve.

“You think so?” he asked.

“You did really well,” Dahlia said. “Honestly, you could’ve won if the swords didn’t break.”

“Doubt it,” James chuckled.

“What?” Dahlia furrowed her brow at that. “You had Seamus on edge toward the end. You were at an advantage.”

James shook his head at that. “God, no. I was swinging more out of fear. He’s faster than me, you know? I only managed to catch him off guard a couple times out of luck. If those clashes lasted just a little longer, I’m pretty sure he’d find a way to counter my hits and take me out.”

“Really?” Dahlia asked. She looked over at Seamus, who was currently drinking out of his waterskin as both Dirk and Kate accompanied him.

“Really,” James confirmed. “The only way I ever could have won is if I was fast enough to knock him out early.”

“So when he managed to block your attack at the ring’s edge…” Dahlia started.

“It was only a matter of time,” James said. “There’s no doubt about it.”

“Seamus would’ve won.”