Xanxas tensed his grip on the hilt, the sword gleaming menacingly before him, poised to parry and unleash a swift counterattack against anything Braxis might dare to launch. They circled each other like a pair of wolves in a deadly dance, the tension in the air growing thicker with each passing second.
Impatience gnawed at Xanxas' resolve. "At least you didn't run away this time," he sneered, attempting to sound impressed.
"Come on. I'm just a weak little boy, so make your move," Braxis retorted, his face a mask of seriousness. "Cute insult, by the way."
Xanxas' fury exploded at the barb, his expression contorted with rage. "I won't be belittled by a lowlife like you!" he roared, sword thrust forward as he charged like a wild bull toward Braxis.
Braxis coolly observed Xanxas' grip on the sword and assumed a defensive stance. He narrowed his eyes, studying the subtle changes in Xanxas' hand positioning.
As Xanxas' sword sliced through the air, Braxis nimbly sidestepped to the left and unleashed a precise counterstrike aimed directly at the hand gripping the weapon. "You're slow," he taunted as he severed Xanxas' hand with a sickening crunch.
Braxis sighed in relief, silently acknowledging that not everyone was as formidable as the monstrous Levant, with whom he had trained recently.
"AGHHHH! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" Xanxas wailed, cradling the spurting stump where his hand had once been.
Surprise flickered across the troll's face, as he had always regarded Braxis as an underdog, devoid of talent. "Head to the medical ward with your hand. With such a clean cut, our top-notch healers should have no problem reattaching it. Hurry before you bleed out," the troll advised, pointing toward the exit.
"The winner is Braxis!" the troll bellowed, raising his hand in triumph.
Levant's Impression: +1
Levant's Impression Progress: 1/300
Dante's Impression: +1
Dante's Impression Progress: -201/300
Relationship Progress: +1
Relationship Progress: 10/300
"Congratulations, you've now established a positive rapport with Levant—the aspiring future sword saint! You can now seek his advice and aid during critical moments."
Intrigued, Braxis mused, 'So, once I achieve progress milestones, I unlock perks like that?' He then noticed the relationship progress indicator and glanced around, identifying the person it hovered above.
The girl was petite, her fiery red hair a perfect complement to the fierce ambition blazing in her eyes. Innocence and determination radiated from her small frame. Her striking beauty was only amplified by her stature. Her vibrant red hair, a shade both bold and confident, cascaded in loose waves around her shoulders, each strand seemingly pulsating with energy. This fiery crown framed her delicate face, which was dominated by a pair of sparkling emerald green eyes, their intensity almost palpable. Her porcelain skin, smooth and unblemished, appeared to glow with an inner light.
'I guess she had a crush on the former owner of this body...' Braxis chuckled inwardly.
"O-okay!" Xanxas stammered through his tears, reaching down to retrieve his severed hand from the ground. He painstakingly pried the fingers, still clenched around the sword, apart with his remaining hand.
"This isn't the end, you...you damn loser!" Xanxas bellowed at Braxis, sprinting away to seek help.
"What a sore loser. I honestly thought the fight would be more challenging. I didn't even get to try out my exploit.." Braxis muttered to himself, rejoining the crowd.
"Well done, Braxis. It's incredible how much you've improved after just a single day of training, especially since you were focused on your spear!" Levant laughed, patting Braxis's back approvingly.
"Well, Dante? Did I do well?" Braxis asked, tauntingly.
Dante regarded Braxis. "Sure, you did fine against a weakling. But don't look so smug after beating someone like that."
Braxis glared at Dante, the urge to punch him rising within him. 'Would it kill this guy to give me a genuine compliment just once?' he thought.
"Alright, we have an intriguing match coming up!" The troll exclaimed, reading from the list.
"Dante, you're up against Levant! Get in the ring, you two!" The troll's smile made it apparent his excitement to witness the outcome of this particular battle.
"Good luck, little brother," Levant said to Dante as they stepped into the circle.
"Whatever. We both know you're going to win. You wield the sword as your primary weapon, while I use daggers," Dante sighed, eager to get the contest over with as he unsheathed one of the subpar swords provided by the school.
"Who knows? Maybe you've improved as much as Braxis!" Levant laughed. Dante's eyes narrowed, his determination to make Levant regret comparing him to Braxis intensifying.
"Just as planned... Oh, little brother, you're so predictable," Levant whispered to himself.
"Take your stances... Begin!" the troll announced.
Dante assumed a unique position, sword held in his right hand behind him and his left hand extended in front, ready to strike. Levant, on the other hand, maintained a standard stance, sword outstretched before him, his eyes fixed on Dante's every move.
As their gazes locked, Dante charged forward with a ferocious battle cry. Levant anticipated the move and expertly swung downward at Dante, but Dante used his left hand to deflect the blade, sparks flying as metal clashed against metal. The maneuver required great precision and showcased Dante's agility and control.
Dante then attempted a swift swipe at Levant's side, but Levant had already repositioned his sword to block the attack, his reflexes lightning-fast.
"Tch, try-hard," Dante muttered, leaping backward to regain some distance, the wind whipping through his hair.
Dante adjusted his sword to a stance similar to Levant's, though he held it at a slight diagonal. Once again, he rushed at Levant, parrying his strike and causing the sword to bounce upward. In a fluid motion, Dante slid between Levant's legs, holding his sword aloft as he passed beneath his opponent, the crowd gasping at the daring move.
Levant, however, had anticipated Dante's move and executed a front flip, evading the sword by a hair's breadth. As he landed, Dante was already on his feet, poised to drive his sword into Levant's back.
"Fine, I'll take you seriously, little brother," Levant conceded, his eyes glowing with a golden light as he spun around, sword in hand, generating a powerful force that sent a gust of wind sweeping across the arena.
The force not only struck Dante's sword but also snapped it cleanly in half, the sound of shattering metal echoing through the air.
Dante stared at the broken weapon, his expression a mixture of disappointment and resignation. He tossed it aside nonchalantly. "Looks like I lose again. What a surprise," he said, his voice laden with sarcasm.
"The winner is Levant!" the troll bellowed, his hand raised in triumph, as the crowd roared in approval.