A few minutes later, Gawain came back out into the arena, only wearing one of his two swords. As he drew it, it shone brilliantly. The light bounced off the blade and his armour. He looked like the sun, gleaming as he did. Intricate patterns were enamelled into his silver armour, matching the gold embroidery on his blue gambeson. It wasn't particularly made for protection, more to accentuate his appearance. It was not uncommon for people to mistake him for an angel. The blonde hair and blue eyes helped, but his face was as perfect as his personality, and he carried himself with a regal aura befitting one with his name. There was only one thing about this spectacle that was not perfect. The blade of his sword was marred. Still shiny, but there were chips and stains that looked out of place.
"That idiot, he still doesn't think he's worthy of Excalibur. He's descended from the true owner, he owned it in real life, and now he's become the true owner. But he still refuses to use it." Athemar quietly chided him.
"He's descended from Arthur!?" Nathan looked incredulous.
"No, he's descended from Gawain. Spent a lot of time and money to find both those swords too, back in the real world. I thought I told you, Arthur was never the owner of Excalibur, it was just one of the swords he used. Gawain owned it, but like our modern-day Gawain here, felt unworthy of it." Nathan nodded and paused to absorb that information. Meanwhile, the duel was beginning. Gawain's opponent was using a Chronosteel weapon that looked like a broadsword, but all the friends knew that if a weapon was made of Chronosteel, it probably had some sort of mechanical surprise. This city was famous for two things: the duelling competition held weekly as a professional event, and Chronosteel gadgets, using a variant of clockwork mechanisms to create some form of motion with a natural energy source. Due to the combative nature of the city's duels, most Chronosteel gadgets were weapons, but it also exported useful items like actual clocks, vehicles and automata. Gawain began the duel by raising his sword in salute and stepping back into a noble-looking stance. His opponent observed no such formality and simply charged in with an overhead strike. With barely any movement, the tip of Galatin was tickling his opponent's throat. When he saw that his opponent was still moving forwards, Gawain pulled his sword back, stepped to the side and caught the careless fighter.
"You haven't had much experience, have you? Please give up and train some more." He said calmly. Instead of a response, the young man's hand twisted on the hilt of his sword. The edges of the blade detached and slid forward, then shot outwards. As Gawain dodged the blade that was suddenly in range to cut him, the handle extended rapidly, catching him by surprise and impacting on his armour. The man's sword had transformed into a scythe and Gawain let out a small laugh.
"You were better off with the sword, my friend." The man simply charged in with a barrage of cuts, using a rotational motion to get more attacks in. Gawain responded by walking closer, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him to the ground. The haft of the scythe bounced off Gawain's armour and flew out of its owner's hands. Gawain pointed Galatin's tip at his opponent's throat once more, this time with no worry of accidentally impaling him. If you were to assign an RPG class to Gawain, there really is no option other than Knight. He doesn't use a shield or a horse, but he is the very definition of a knight's chivalry, and wields a sword with a great amount of skill, at least when his opponent is worthy of that skill. Once his opponent had reluctantly admitted that he'd lost, Gawain moved back to the stands and the king announced the next match. Supposedly it was a high profile fight, with a lot of money on it. None of the friends had managed to become that important in their year of professional fighting, but that wasn't surprising. All the competition leaders had been fighting since the test period for Chronicle World, and most of them had experience of MMA and HEMA from the real world. Gawain would've been able to make a lot of money for the king, but he refused to take any high profile fights.
A few hours passed with the four friends telling stories and laughing together, but eventually it was Sylvia's turn to fight. She ran to the stairs, winking and waving back to the other three. When she came out, they all leaned forward in their seats. She had an interesting style to go with her strange weapon, and it was worth paying attention to. She walked to a spot not far from her entrance and levelled her spear. It was a wide-bladed spear with thick barbs, designed for both thrusting and slashing, and causing large wounds either way. The three friends in the stands knew it also shortened into a blunt flanged mace, but in these duels that form is only ever used when she's already won, as strong armour is forbidden. In terms of RPG classes, Sylvia would probably be a rogue. She likes to wear out her opponent physically and mentally, causing a lot of bleeding and using her long range as a perfect defence. She's also a rugged kind of charming, and can be a little bit shifty at times when she's thinking of something mischievous. Which is fairly often. The match started with Sylvia's opponent pressing forward, trying to get closer. Sylvia responded with a quick jab of her spear while moving forwards herself. It didn't catch skin, but it reminded the woman that coming closer comes with a risk. Sylvia raised her spear, shifting her grip simultaneously. Her opponent took this as an opportunity to move in but got cut deep as Sylvia drew the blade backwards through the side of her stomach. Bleeding badly, she put on a brave face. Sylvia lunged back through the other side but only got a surface-level cut. She then swung it around to attack the shoulder. Her opponent threw up a desperate hand and managed to stop the spear, stumbling forward to slash with a concealed dagger, but got caught herself. Sylvia had let go of her spear with one hand in anticipation of a strategy like this. With a sharp twist and a tug on the spear, she easily disarmed her opponent. A loud wail sounded out and the spear began its slow transformation, countless tiny parts of the shaft sliding forward and locking into place around the spearhead. Sylvia's opponent, thinking of surrender up until that point, saw her chance and rushed at her. She threw a huge overhand aimed at Sylvia's face. It merely impacted on a forearm. Sylvia's spear had finally finished its transformation, so she raised it high, then brought it down. Her opponent hastily threw up her other arm in defence, but Sylvia diverted the blow wide and impacted with the side instead. It knocked all the wind out and left her opponent unconscious. The crowd was silent for a moment longer, then burst into thunderous applause. Sylvia's fighting wasn't particularly flashy or high level, but it contained a simple mastery. She was good at predicting and playing with people, and was able to control a fight to achieve a flawless victory.