Chapter 32 - Loss

Back in the centre on the square, William had an inscrutable expression on his face as he gazed at the duel. Strands of his white hair danced across his scar from a growing breeze.

'As expected of a Noble heir. He is a cut above the rest.'

The man's eyes focused on the burly half-blood whose feet left skid marks on the ground after being pushed back once again.

While not a bad fighter, Leon was, unfortunately, outclassed in every aspect so far.

The only thing he had going for him was the power of his strikes. The rest such as speed, precision and accuracy and cunning all went to Lucas.

William narrowed his gaze. There was about forty-five seconds left until the limit of the duel came into effect. If a winner was not decided by then, he would have no other choice then to call it a draw.

Something which was bound to annoy and further enrage the haughty heir, the white-haired instructor drily thought to himself.

He shook his head slightly and returned his full attention back to overseeing the duel.

Who knew what kind of stunt Lucas could pull?

Sliding to a stop, Leon dug his large weapon into the ground, supporting his faltering frame. He gritted his teeth.

'Think, think, think. There must be a way to bypass his meticulous guard.'

Leon increased his focus, trying to take in all parts of the battleground. Currently, he found himself pushed up along the edge of the groove boundary, barely saving himself from being disqualified.

The half-blood inhaled deeply. He wiped the sweat on his eyes as he rapidly blinked. He saw a haughty smirk colour Lucas's features, the embers of insanity in his crimson eyes deepening.

Leon had to admit that the Stanburg Heir was a formidable opponent. He lived up to his House's reputation of eminence within the combat circle.

A light sigh escaped the half-blood's lips. His hazel eyes narrowed as he gripped his weapon tighter and formed the outline of a quick plan in his mind.

"Looks who's pushed back now, huh? You half-bloods are worthless and a stain to all of Crelerath." Lucas sneered; disdain written all across his face.

Leon ignored the jab, and focused on regaining his breath, which he did a few moments later.

He clenched his teeth and shot forward. He had to attack; he couldn't be on the defensive any longer.

With his stalwart body, the half-blood dashed toward his opponent with great resolve. He dropped his shoulder and sent his hammer careening forward.

Lucas scoffed. The half-blood was so predictable. Staying light on his feet, the fiery-haired noble focused on sensing the trajectory of the attack, before nimbly escaping its range.

Lucas's haughty sneer deepened. A moment later, however, his brows shot up in surprise, his eyes dilating.

For the first time in the fight, Leon allowed a ghost of a smile to grace his face. His burly muscles bulged, as he forcefully changed the course of his attack.

The muscles on his forearm strained, as he twisted his torso. He used the entirety of his body weight to empower this latest strike.

Coupled with the synchronisation method, the might contained within the sledgehammer was nothing to scoff at.

The large weapon streaked through the air.

Bam!

The heavy clash kicked up a slight cloud of dust, the screech of blunted metal impacting against blunted metal produced a jarring sound that echoed through the square.

The trainees who were not spectating this duel, all snapped their heads toward the centre. Their eyes attempting to decipher who won.

Once the dust settled, they released several audible gasps. They could not believe what they were seeing…

…Lucas, heir of the Stanburg, was being pushed back. And by a half-blood to boot!

The scrawnier redhead snarled, two orbs of rage igniting in his eyes. He had just barely blocked that attack. He did not expect his opponent to utilise a feint.

As a result, his centre of balance when blocking was shoddy at best. Unable to fully handle the power behind the strike, the strength behind the blow pushed Lucas back, his feet desperately trying to skid to a stop.

The tremors from the half-blood's previous strike rocked his arms. The haughty noble suppressed a groan and gritted his teeth.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Lucas screamed, seeing Leon pounce on the opportunity and release another crushing strike.

William, who became bored seeing the half-blood pushed back repeatedly, straightened. His eyes widened and gleamed with a new light.

This… now this was what he called entertainment.

He narrowed his gaze, anticipation surging through his bones.

'Can he actually do it?'

The white-haired man witnessed the two redheads clash once again. Lucas ended up on the losing side for the second time in a row. The first time that had occurred during in the fight.

A feeling of confidence grew within William. He had a feeling the half-blood could achieve the unthinkable. Or at least ensure he didn't lose.

The clangour of steel continued to ring out, with the ferocious combatants at its centre. The seconds trickled by. To Lucas, it felt like multiple lifetimes had passed.

He saw his opponent unleash another devastating attack. Gritting his teeth, the fiery-haired noble inhaled, imbuing his strikes further with the synchronisation method to cancel out the barrage of force heading his way.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Moving his arms faster and faster, Lucas roared. His axe cried out, refusing to lose out to its sledgehammer counterpart.

He slid back, his feet attempting to find purchase and strengthen his stance. Leon didn't let up, however. He was determined to keep this welcome advantage.

Thirty seconds left.

Twenty-five.

Twenty.

Fifteen…

Within the span of ‌fifteen seconds, the duel grew fiercer and fiercer, swathes of tension running amok unrestrained in the air.

During the short time that had passed, Lucas stabilised himself. He no longer frantically blocked every strike that came his way. His composure returned.

With that, came a crucial piece of knowledge he had previously missed. Another loud clang echoed between the two redheads. The tip of the axe and hammer trembled against each other.

Lucas noticed Leon's shoulders sag slightly, a miniscule pause in the half-blood's steps. The haughty noble's eyes narrowed.

His opponent was growing tired!

Fifteen seconds left.

Ten seconds…

Five seconds…

Armed with this new knowledge, Lucas went about strategically placing his strikes such that it increased the burden on the half-blood's body.

He sensed it…

… Victory was close.

Leon, who felt himself grow more tired as the duel continued, internally groaned.

Why did his body have to falter in the crucial moment that could decide the winner between him and Lucas?

The half-blood gritted his teeth. Recalling his desolate childhood, the endless scorn and contempt, the burly redhead snarled and roared.

He would not back down.

This would be the first step on his journey to prove that half-bloods matter. To prove that they were the same as everyone else…

…that they were equal.

***

Up above, the gloomy clouds swirled and danced, with the occasional rumble accompanied by a flash of light, heralding ‌a fierce storm. Unperturbed, the duels still continued, however.

By now, there was less than five seconds remained until they would reach the limit of two minutes, with no clear victor being announced yet.

The six trainees fought with greater grit and resolve, seeking to defeat their foe and claim victory.

Henry's sword sang, as it blurred forwards. He was putting his all in every strike.

Yet, Caden was easily matching his movements, without barely breaking a sweat. The orange-haired trainee kept steadily increasing the intensity of his strikes, pushing his opponent to the brink.

His sword was like a cunning viper, shifting in an intense serpentine movement, attacking several places at once.

Henry gritted his teeth.

He dug his feet into the ground, lunging forward in a quick strike aiming to use Caden's momentum to his advantage. Alas, his opponent was ready.

Caden easily parried Henry's swift strike, taking a step back before shifting his sword under the raven-haired trainee guard. The young farmer, who had put his all into the attack hoping to catch his bright-haired opponent off guard, hastily moved his sword.

He strained his muscles to the limit, maneuvering his weapon back in front of him to block the attack.

He had to hold on for a few more seconds.

Henry and Caden's weapons clashed. The green-eyed trainee's sword trembled under the force of his opponent's blow. A large clang from the centre of the square, distracted him for the briefest of moments.

However, that tiny second was all it took for Caden to gain the upper hand. Henry's feet wobbled, his balance tilting backwards alarmingly.

His eyes widened.

The orange-haired trainee's sword streaked through the air and stopped at his neck.

Henry's shoulders slumped down.

He had lost…