“Back so soon, Mawe?”

Edan gave a carefree shrug. “What can I say, I was getting bored.”

“And the laugh of our quiet observer?” The teacher probed gently, his eyes straying to the form of the Titan.

“She said I reminded her of a hairy animal.”

“Well…okay then.” Even Master Sims looked confused. With a cough to clear his throat, he said “I’m assuming you didn’t come here to chat. Ready for another challenge?”

Edan felt butterflies in his stomach. This was it. His chance.

“I challenge Brier for her spot at number nine.”

“And the reason you’re telling me and not her has nothing to do with the crowd she keeps?”

Edan scowled as he followed Master Sims' tilted chin. Brier sat among the Bright Petal Sect group. Her armor dyed a mix of pastel pinks and yellows and cinched tight at the waist. Around her, a group of girls chatted, occasionally one would say something and the rest would snicker.

“It’s okay, lad.” Master Sims patted Edan on the back. “When I was your age I’d have taken a sword to the gut before walking up to a group of girls like them.”

Edan opened his mouth to respond but Master Sims's bark drowned him out.

“Oi! Brier of the Bright Petal Sect, get up here! You’re being challenged.”

The woman in question rose gracefully to her feet and moved towards them. She was attractive, with dark brown hair that was styled behind her head in intricate loops. Her large doe eyes and angular features made her look innocent and delicate. Even her weapon, swaying with the movement of her hips, was delicate. A rapier with a basket hilt of spun gold.

It was the sight of her weapon that helped settle Edan. Sanik used a rapier, and Edan had grown up with him as a sparring partner.

Master Sims chuckled as he saw Edan’s eyes widen slightly as the woman approached.

“Gotta love a maxed charisma.” Master Sims muttered before speaking louder as Brier approached. “Will it just be the rapier?”

“Yes, sir,” Brier replied, drawing the weapon from her hip with an unnecessary flourish and handing it to Master Sims. She flashed a bright smile at Edan, her teeth white against her pink lips.

Edan smiled back as he drew his own weapons to be enchanted.

“You aren’t going to attack while I’m unarmed, are you?” Brier teased lightly.

“Wha-uh, no! Of course not!” Edan was quick to reassure her.

Master Sims shook his head and handed each their weapons back. He fought the urge to slap the boy upside the head as he stared at Brier as she walked to her corner of the makeshift ring.

Edan began to regret his decision. Did he really need Brier’s spot? He might accidentally hurt her if they fought and she truly did look so delicate.

Yes! He did! He needed to be strong! He needed the support of a sect. The very same sects he hated.

Across from him, Brier raised her blade. Edan thought he remembered Sanik calling it Sixte or something suspicious like that. Brier smiled at him and winked.

“Go easy on me!” She called out.

Edan ignored her group of friends laughing behind her.

Maybe he should just take it easy on her.

“Fight!” Master Sims barked.

And Brier sprung forward, her leath frame uncurling like a spring as she struck out. The tip of her sword glinted in the afternoon light as it tore through space. It was a sight Edan was all too familiar with.

His body moved on instinct, the same way it would if he were sparring with Sanik. Edan drew a dagger, but instead of throwing it, he used its blade to push the sword point out wide.

“Oh, I thought I had you there!” Brier pouted, once more shifting back so there was space between them. “I hope I don't lose.”

Edan couldn’t bear to break her heart. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to lose. It would be worth it, just to see her smile.

Brier struck out again and Edan stepped forward. Muscle memory moved his body, even as he fought it. His attempted sacrifice turned into a clumsy dodge that had him stumbling past Brier, her sword dragging lightly along his chest. The blade turned orange.

Brier's response was more violent than Edan had expected, she recoiled from him, as if afraid he would tackle her to the ground. As she twisted, Edan caught a look of disgust on her face and it broke his heart. Edan was so close her hair smacked him in the face and the smell of flowers. The scent soothed his broken heart and made his cheeks feel hot.

She’d forgive him if he let her win.

There was a roaring in Edan's ears like some wild animal let loose, and he stumbled back, his hand going to his head as ice filled his veins and sucked the heat from his body so rapidly he got a headache.

The headache passed as quickly as it had come, thanks in part to Edan's high constitution. It took the heat from his cheeks and the confusion from his thoughts.

‘What the fuck…” Edan muttered out loud. He had to fight the urge to cringe at himself. “What was that?”

Edan glared at Brier. She watched him closely, her fencing blade held balanced and unwavering between them. With the fog lifted from his mind, Edan looked at the woman properly for the first time. Her hair and armor spoke more of fashion than practicality. Her large eyes weren’t warm and innocent. They were hard and beneath the surface, Edan could still make out that disgust she had shown earlier.

“Dammit! I guess I overplayed my hand. Don’t suppose you’ll still let me win?” she asked. Her voice was no longer teasing and inviting. It just pissed Edan off.

“Sure.” Edan agreed, letting his hands fall loosely to his side. He looked down, noting the blade he still held. “But first…here!”

Edan tossed the blade at her underhand. It wasn’t a throw. It was a lob, and the blade arced through the air. Reflex had Brier almost reaching for it as her body responded to Edan’s words before she could stop it.

She did manage to stop herself though and with a flick of her wrist, she deflected the weapon. With another flick of her wrist she deflected the second blade Edan had thrown. Brier was expecting him to lash out like he always did when he got close, so she was taken by surprise when Edan physically tackled her.

If she had been anyone else, Edan wouldn’t have tried it. He was too small, and his classmates too strong for something like that to work, but Brier was slim, fast, and light, and Edan would bet all his savings she wouldn’t invest heavily into Strength.

He was right and she fell back with a screech. Brier brought the handle of her sword down, trying to brain Edan, but he shifted and the blow glanced off his shoulder blade. Edan punched her in the nose, hard. Her head snapped back, hitting the hard stone behind her with a crack and her eyes rolled back into her head.

It was Edan’s turn to look at her with disgust. How had she been ranked nine? She had almost no combat experience. She fell wrong. She reacted poorly. She'd practically knocked herself out.

Edan remembered how he had almost let her win. What had she done to influence him? High Charisma and some sort of enchantment? He considered bringing it up with Master Sims. In the end, though he didn’t. The academy probably already knew what she did and didn’t care.

Getting off her, Edan didn’t even bother being a good sportsman as he walked over and picked up his two blades. Master Sims was checking on the girl, but he didn’t look worried.

Edan looked to his classmates as he waited for Master Sims to announce his new rank. More of them were looking at him now. He wasn’t the quiet, little boy who sat at the back of the classroom anymore. He was done playing that part.

Edan matched their gazes before stopping on the group around Aser. The tall boy regarded him with a sneer before brushing a strand of green hair from his forehead and turning to say something to Nose, dismissing Edan.

“Edan moves up to rank nine!”

Edan allowed himself a smile.

Master Sims continued. “We’ve got time for a few more fights, so if anyone has any more challengers you better get ready.”

Edan could already see the hungry eyes looking at him.

“I challenge Kaneel for rank eight,” Edan called out, his face a hard mask of determination. With a finger, he pointed at the boy sitting among Aser’s group.

Control the pace. Control the momentum Saniks words echoed in Edan’s mind.

He had to control the momentum of it all, not just the fights but also the challengers. It was all a fight, just in different ways.

The war resumes? Edan remembered the Titan’s question.

It never stops.

This was his war.

Edan took a deep breath and set his feet. Squaring his shoulder he watched Kaneel approach. His opponent's long stride chewed up the space until he stopped for Master Sims to enchant his hand and a half sword. Edan’s own blades were still enchanted.

Another deep breath helped center Edan’s thoughts and settled his beating heart. He watched Kaneel stop opposite him. Edan looked at the casual confidence with which Kaneel held his sword.

Edan hadn’t just been sitting down lazily in the sun, he had been observing. Kaneel had tried to take Kumi’s rank earlier but had lost. While the match hadn't gone how Kaneel wanted, it had shown Edan something important. The man was skilled and fought defensively.

“Fight!” Master Sims' voice cracked like a whip.

Edan surged forward like the tide. He reached for the daggers along his chest. Kaneel shifted his feet and watched Edan’s hand. He was expecting Edan to throw the daggers. It was what Edan had been doing all day.

Edan drew his hand back and flicked it forward. No blade left his hand. It was a faint and Kaneel twitched, almost falling for it. Then Edan was in front of him. Dagger plunged towards stomach, only to be deflected by the blade of a sword. Edan twisted, then turned, his other hand lashing out, a second throwing knife gripped in his palm like a dagger.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Kaneel wove a pattern of steel through the air, deflecting and pushing aside Edans attack with a calm determination. Edan lashed out with a kick and winced when his foot collided with Kaneels. It was like hitting a wall.

This was the danger of those in the top nine. They likely had max levels and capped stats.

Faster and faster Edan moved. Stabs turned to slashes, slashes to hacks. He kicked and punched, blending it all together in a wild mixture to confuse Kaneel and keep the man from pushing him back where the sword would have an advantage.

Edan attempted a body check and stumbled back as Kaneel failed to move an inch. He managed to keep the smile off his face.

The kick had been a test. It proved Kaneel was too strong to be moved. The body check had been a play. Edan needed an excuse to gain distance without making it look like an attack.

Stumbling back Edan flicked the blades in his hand out, throwing them from barely a foot away. He didn’t even wait to see what happened to them. He was already reaching for the other two and throwing them as well. In the blink of an eye, four daggers had left Edans hands.

Kaneel deflected one, and then by some miracle, he deflected the other, both with a wide sweep of his sword. The third hit him in the right shoulder, the enchantment preventing it from piercing. The knife fell to the ground, its blade yellow. The second knife slipped just to the left, missing Kaneel by a hair.

Edan completed his stumble and almost snapped his back bending away from a relatitory sword swing. Now it was Kaneel’s turn to advance, the distance between the two was perfect for his sword.

Edan sucked in his stomach, narrowly avoiding getting disemboweled. He twisted, the stab intended for his heart sliding along his shoulder. Kaneel’s blade turned yellow.

Edan stepped in, trying to close the distance but Kaneel skipped back, his blade once more flicking through the air like a grey flame, forcing Edan back. Ducking under a blow that would have removed his head, Edan pulled the push daggers from his back. They weren’t made to deflect a sword. In fact, they weren’t made for defense at all. They just made Edan feel better holding them.

Edan danced around the blade and tried to reach Kaneel but all it earned him was a slice along his bicep. Kaneel’s blade turned orange.

“Useless without your little throwing knives,” Kaneel muttered, advancing on Edan.

Edan had to admit Kaneel was right. He considered throwing the push blades, but they weren’t weighted right and it would just be a waste. Edan wondered how long they had been fighting. Maybe it was long enough? Maybe the class would be over soon?

He had to keep at it. Draw it out.

The alternative was to allow himself to be beaten now, then accept a follow-up challenge that Edan just knew would come. He could likely win that challenge, even exhausted as he was.

But could Edan win the one after?

Kaneel didn't give Edan time to think. He advanced with all the skilled determination of a dedicated swordsman. Edan slid to the side, allowing the overhead chop to whistle past him. Stepping in he dropped a blade and grabbed at Kaneel’s hand, attempting to lock the limb and weapon down.

Once again his low strength stat came into play. Kaneel twisted out of Edan’s grip and kicked the smaller boy's legs out from under him. Edan hit the ground hard and rolled. Kaneels blade hit the ground where his neck had been a millisecond before.

Edan tried to get to his feet but Kaneel was there, pressuring him. Kicking him and forcing him back down. Edan tried to roll away but Kaneel was expecting it and stomped on Edan's foot. Edan bit back a scream as he felt his ankle twist.

Then the sword fell. The orange glow made the metal blade look awash with fire. Like a guillotine, it dropped towards Edan's neck. The blade froze against his skin, the cold metal just kissing his delicate flesh.

“I think we can call that a win.” Master Sims appeared in Edan’s view, standing behind Kaneel, one hand on the boy's shoulder, the other reaching around to hold his hand in place.

“Kaneel of the Four Star Heavenly Sect retains his rank. Mawe, you’ve lost the right to challenge.”

Edan nodded his head in understanding, ignoring the smug smile on Kaneel’s face as he limped over to begin picking up his daggers.

As he bent over, Edan caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Aser had moved from his place among the group. Edan’s heart dropped when he noticed who the green-haired boy was talking to. Therry. Rank ten.

Aser said something quietly in the other boy's ear before nodding and stepping back. His lips twisted in a false smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Therry looked towards Edan. Edan sighed and stopped walking. He knew what was coming.

“I challenge Edan Mawe for his rank of nine!” Therry called out, his voice high and light. It matched his hair.

Edan scowled. He didn’t like Therry. Not only because the other boy was a foppish dick who spent too much time grooming his thin wispy mustache but also because he used mini crossbows as a weapon. Normally that wouldn’t have been an issue, but Therry’s were specially made, thanks to a father who sat among the wealthiest merchants in the city. They had an under barrel attached to the shaft of each weapon that contained small bolts. After each shot, the crossbow would reload automatically.

Also, Edan may have been a bit jealous of the ornate jade dagger the boy carried on his hip. It was as ostentatious as the owner, but Edan could appreciate its beauty.

Master Sims glanced at Edan, pity in his eyes, before calling Therry forward. Edan turned back and limped to his original position. He ignored Aser. He ignored the anger that burned like acid in his gut.

The top nine ranks were jealously guarded by the sects. It must have irritated them like a sore tooth to have someone like Edan join their number.

Was that what Aser promised Therry? Edan wandered as he tested his ankle. It was tender but could hold his weight. Once more he thanked his constitution. A welcome into the fold? Guess they prefer having a son of a Merchant than they do a son of a commoner.

Edan held back the urge to spit.

Therry stood opposite Edan and drew his crossbows with an exaggerated flourish when Master Sims asked him for his weapon. There was a great deal of grumbling as he pulled the drum from beneath the shafts and cracked them open. Therry protested as the teacher pulled out each bolt and tapped the metal heads.

Edan watched closely. Counting the number of bolts in each drum. Six per drum, with a drum for each crossbow, so twelve bolts total. It did beg the question though, how would damage be counted?

Curious, Edan decided to ask Master Sims, as it seemed a relevant question.

“Sir, how will the bolt record damage? Like, does each bolt count as flat damage, so get hit by three and I’ll have lost? Or is it location-based, so if I get hit in the head it goes straight to red and I’m out?”

Master Sims gave an appreciative nod. “Good question. It’s location-based. Don’t ask me how the enchantment works. I don’t know and none of the Golden Throne Enchanters would be willing to tell me if I did ask. Just know that a bolt to the head will count as an immediate loss, while a bolt to say….your arm… wouldn't. Keep in mind though, that if enough make contact, it'll still be marked as a loss. You aren't at a level where you can ignore fifteen bolts sticking out of you.”

Edan nodded his understanding, his brain already working overtime trying to figure out a way to win. His options weren’t looking great. Therry would keep him at a distance and just pelt him with bolts until he ‘died’. If he pushed the boy could just run away.

Once more Edan felt the limit of his fighting style. He thought about what the higher-ranked students would do. The answer was simple. They’d use a shield, or the threat of Sect retaliation to prevent the fight from happening in the first place.

Edan almost laughed when he realized that Therry had him to thank if he entered the top 9.

Master Sims was almost done enchanting the final bolts of the second drum. Edan needed to come up with something quick. Groaning to himself at the stupidity of his idea, Edan slid the daggers from their sheaths and laid them on the floor.

Next, he started working on the buckles of his armor, loosening them up enough to slide the leather cuirass over his head. His underclothes were damp from sweat and the afternoon breeze drifting through the window chilled him. Turning the hardened leather vest around, Edan looped the shoulder straps across his forearms, so the armor hung down like curtains.

It wasn’t ideal, and it didn’t fit properly on his arm, but it was better than nothing.

Master Sims, done with Therry, walked over to Edan. His mustache twitched in a frown at the cuirass around Edan's arm.

“I’ll need to reapply the enchantment,” he muttered, pointing to the blades on the ground. “Also that’s going to block your vision if you plan on using it like a shield. The leather might be stiff enough to block the bolt though.”

“I’m hoping the enchantment will turn the bolts into thrown rocks. You know, it hits the leather and pushes it back a bit, then falls down.” Edan grabbed the bottom of the cuirass and waved it back and forth gently. “Think it’ll work?”

Master Sims shrugged. “Not my place to say, lad. If you like we can go over shield techniques in the next practical class, but for now, you’re on your own.”

Edan didn’t miss the slight bob of the man's head as if he were agreeing with the tactic. To hide the smile from his face Edan picked up two daggers and slid them into his belt, making a show of adjusting them. Normally he would have wanted the naked blades nowhere near Edan junior, but once more he was relying on the enchantments.

Edan picked up the other two daggers and turning around, placed them out of the way. He ensured Therry had a clear view of his back.

“You lot may want to watch out for flying objects!” Master Sim roared at the rest of the class, his cheery voice at odds with his words. “The bolts may be enchanted but that doesn’t mean it can't take out an eye if it hits you!”

Master Sims was nice enough to wait for Edan to get back in position before lifting his arm. As he dropped it Edan had a single moment to hope that Therry didn’t invest heavily in Dexterity.

There was a snap.

Instinct had Edan bringing his left arm up, the cuirass rising with it, to shield his face. There was muted thumb and the cuirass swayed back stiffly under the force of the bolt. But Edan avoided getting hit.

He saw what Master Sims meant though. With the curiess blocking his vision he had no idea where Therry was aiming next. There was another snap and Edan crouched, trying to cover as much of himself as possible with armor that was only meant to cover his chest.

The bolt flew past his foot, narrowly missing his calf muscle.

10 bolts.

Move you idiot! Listening to the voice in his head, Edan dove sideways. Another bolt whistled past his head. He tucked into a ball, rolling forward before bouncing to his feet. His left arm came up, even as he ducked down. There was another snap of wooden limps and taught string and Edan stumbled sideways, hissing in pain, as a bolt made contact with his forearm. Luckily the armor was good enough padding that he’d only be left with a bruise.

Edan didn't look back to see what color the bolt was. He would fight until Master Sims stopped him. He jerked to the side, choosing a sporadic path across the floor, but always keeping Therry to his left, his makeshift shield between them.

There was another snap and Edan jerked to stop and raised his hand. Too late. The bolt skipped off his rib. Edan saw it flash orange as it disappeared under his right elbow.

Edan jugged back towards the center of the ring. He stumbled, his ankle protesting at the sudden moves. He ignored it. Pulling a dagger from his belt he dropped his shield, drawing a bead on Therry at the same time the boy raised his crossbow to fire. Edan jerked his shield back up and tossed the knife around it blindly.

There was the snap again. The bolt missed. So did his knife.

6 bolts.

He couldn’t afford to take another hit. Even a glancing blow might set off the enchantment.

Breath coming in huffs, Edan ignored the sweat stinging his eyes. His heart beat like drums in his ears. Adrenaline shot through his veins like lightning, searing thought from his brain and leaving only action.

Edan grabbed his last dagger and holding his cuirass up in front of him, charged straight at Therry. It was one of the few times Edan was thankful for his small stature and speed. He didn’t quite fit behind the makeshift shield, but enough of him was covered that the shots Therry aimed at his exposed elbow, or shins, were hard enough that the boy missed. Instead, he shot rapidly at the leather cuirass in the hopes of pushing it far enough back to get a bolt under it.

One bolt slipped past Edan's shoulder. One bounced off the ground as it hit the floor between his sprinting feet. Another one impacted the leather cuirass with enough force to make Edan lean back, even as he continued to run forward. The fourth shot hit the exact same place and Edan staggered.

2 bolts.

Panicked, Edan threw the last dagger blindly, hoping to disrupt Therry’s focus. The boy laughed, making it obvious Edan had missed. There was another crack and Edan felt a third bolt impact his cuiress. His forward run turned into a stumble and his arm dipped. He looked over his forearm with wide eyes, staring down the barrel of a crossbow.

1 bolt.

There was a crack. The bolt flew true.

Edan screamed at himself to duck.

The bolt grew larger in his eyes…

…and skimmed across his scalp, pulling at strands of his hair.

Therry swore, throwing his crossbows to the side with all the disregard of someone who could buy more, and drew the knife from his belt. It may not have been his primary weapon, but it didn’t need to be. Edan had used his last dagger, he would be unarmed.

Therry dove forward, taking advantage of Edan’s staggering form.

Edan was still trying to recover his balance after his lucky dodge. His hands were tied up with the leather cuirass, the armor weighing him down and making him lopsided.

The green dagger fell towards Edan’s neck. Edan surged forward, angling his head so the blade would pass by his left ear, his shoulder acting as a brace to stop Therry’s downward slash at the forearm. His own right arm slid out from beneath his cuirass, which was still tied to his left forearm. Edan’s ankle screamed at him as he set his leg, accepting the weight of the taller boy as he crashed into him. He swung a haymaker towards Therry’s exposed ribs.

Therry caught light flash off the metal in Edan’s hand.

He remembered watching Edan's fights earlier against all his other opponents. Therry had watched the boy pull his punch daggers from his back. He remembered watching Edan place his daggers out of the way before the match. Edan's back had been clear. No weapons. No sheath.

Ohhh, Therry realised too late. The sheaths for the push daggers were on the inside of the armor.

Therry grunted as he felt something blunt, but narrow, impact his ribs. His armor reduced much of the force. He wouldn’t even have a bruise.

The enchantment didn’t care about that.

Edan’s hand drew back. Like blood coating its blade, the push dagger clutched in his palm was red.

“Edan Mawe retains his rank. Therry of the Merchants Guild, you have lost the right to challenge.”

[Endurance +1]

[Constituion +1]

[Endurance: 82 -> 83, Constitution: 83 -> 84]

Edan whooped loudly, thrusting his hand into the air in joy.