Breakfast is spent reading, my first two 'classes' are spent training singular skills… standard scheduled procedure. The next part of my scheduled training, though, is something I have looked forward to: using my post-naming ability to duel Reinhart. Before being named, I was only marginally below him in swordsmanship ability. Now… well, who could blame me for wanting to gauge my power before going off to war?
"Today, as you are all surely aware by now, will be another practical training day. Pair up with someone, and practice. I don't want to see you slacking off! And yes, that includes watching the duels of others."
Everyone quickly finds a partner, though 'everyone' consists of three sets of people, one of which is only Lector and I. After seeing that the partner sets are the same as usual, with the guy who was injured by the scorpion fighting the guy who knew about the scorpions, and the two other solo scorpion killers facing each other, I turn to Reinhart, who walks toward me with a barely disguised eager expression.
That he has enjoyed dueling me as much as I enjoy dueling him is no secret. His almost fanatical love of the sword combined with very few who can match his technical prowess means that he relishes every chance to fight me as much as I relish a chance to improve my abilities.
"I heard you killed a noble yesterday. By stabbing him through the neck with a sword in a magic training class, no less."
"Yes, well, he started it. And besides, the duel was no holds barred - I still had to close in on the mage to win."
"Yes, I'm aware. Though to say that he started it after you goaded him into doing so… Well, by noble codes of honor, he essentially had no choice but to challenge you. Still, I'm always glad to see a mage run through with a sword."
The bitterness in his voice that comes through at the end reminds me of a rather sad truth: Reinhart, as someone incapable of magic in any form, will never be able to compete with higher mages. Even with his legendary blade, he still cannot compare with any mage of true power, branch not mattering. The unfairness of this evil world is such that even a man of great talent and devotion cannot be successful if not blessed by it. In this world, those who are not mages are at such a significant disadvantage when compared to mages. Such is absurd in its unfairness, and such is why this world must be punished!
"Are you ready?" Jorgenson asks, not taking advantage of my distraction as I may expect him to.
"Oh, yes," I respond, taking a defensive stance to block his first attack. He leaps back from his probing attack, a move that he has deployed on me hundreds of times before. Recognizing his plan to bait me into attack, I maintain my defensive position.
We slowly circle around each other, swords held defensively, searching for any openings. Three times he moves in, three times a flurry of blows is exchanged, and three times he withdraws, leaving both of us unscathed.
Normally, I am rather impatient in our duels, providing him with the assault he so desperately wants. However, this is not rashness on my part; he is of a higher level and higher physical skill levels than I am, and so any drawn out fight will naturally go in his favor. At least that was previously the case; it is my hope that my naming will have closed this gap enough for me to persist in a more lengthy duel.
My patience is rewarded when he lunges towards me with no intention to immediately retreat. Our swords moving so fast as to be blurs to the untrained eye, we exchange countless blows, all of which are avoided in some form or another.
Swing, block, dodge, jab, step, parry… actions and reactions take place at an almost incomprehensibly fast rate, neither of us gaining the upper hand. Considering that I previously only won in special circumstances and was always at a disadvantage in proper duels, that I am holding my own without falling behind in the slightest, such is a sign of growth.
As our duel goes on, minutes passing by like hours until full hours pass like days, I begin to feel myself gaining the upper hand. Not by much, mind you, but by enough that, should I not make any fatal errors, my victory is likely.
As we near the end of our second hour of continuous fighting, I begin to feel myself slightly tiring. That I have made it so long without this issue, such shows the power of the Strength and Heat Resistance skills, alongside the benefits from leveling and my naming. That I can persist in a very physically demanding state for so long speaks volumes of the power of these skills.
Still, that I am beginning to tire changes things. Though I am not sure of his exact skill levels, it is doubtless that Reinhart, who has pursued this physically demanding practice for many years, would have higher level relevant skills than I do. So, with that in mind, I should probably start looking for a way to bring an end to this fight.
Such things are easier said than done, however. We have locked ourselves into a deadly dance, and any deviation may likely devastate the deviator. Still, I will surely lose if I don't make an opening and claim victory shortly.
However, before I can pursue my plans, Reinhart leaves an opening wholly of his own accord. Though it is likely a feint, that I could seize victory here and now propels me forward. I stab forward with a jab, and, quickly seeing where he could possibly swing, dodge out of the way in advance.
In the end, my worry is unnecessary - Reinhart's opening is left apparently out of carelessness, and not as a trap. My sword pierces deeply into his gut, drawing blood as I remove it.
"Well… done…" he gasps out, as he removes a healing potion from a pocket, which he quickly quaffs down.
"That naming of yours gave you a great power boost, it would seem. And a good thing that is. That was the best duel I have had in years!" he says, excitement audible in his voice.
"Yes, well, I am quite glad for it as well. I was honestly rather unsure of the degree of increase I would experience due to my naming until this duel; there isn't really anyone else here capable to test my improved abilities on."
"That certainly is true. Based on swordsmanship alone you are already at least almost my equal, and here there is only one better than I. Of course, your skills and general level are well below most commanders here, so I wouldn't recommend picking any fights."
"Oh? Who here is better with the sword than you?" I ask, ignoring his last line.
"Our esteemed general, of course. There is not a commander here who can outclass the general in any specific skill, with only your master's ludicrous elemental manipulation abilities coming close. So, what say you to having another duel?"
[I guess General Lion is even more powerful than I thought,] I think, before saying aloud "I would be honored to have another chance to duel."
And so, for the rest of the training period, we continue to duel. None lasts nearly as long as our first, with our increased exhaustion greatly cutting down on the potential length. Not counting our initial exchange, our record is two to four, in Reinhart's favor, making the overall tally still three to four in Reinhart's favor. Still, that I did so well against him is something that I can only feel happy about.