Nico panted noiselessly retreating for a moment. A dull ache spread through his legs and intertwined with the heat in his clavicle to provide an unpleasant sensation throughout his whole body.
A bead of sweat silently slid down the side of the boy's face.
Nico stared at Lucas, who had a slight sheen of perspiration on his forehead that was rapidly wiped away by the ever-increasing deluge from above.
The noble had an unflinching gaze with his back ramrod straight. The grip on his axe had tightened significantly, a far cry from its previous languidness.
'Looks like he's finally going to take this seriously.'
Nico didn't know how to feel about that. On the one hand, it showed that he had at least proved tough enough of an opponent that Lucas now had to take him seriously.
On the other, with the sudden change in the haughty heir's disposition, things were bound to become that much tougher.
A light sigh escaped the brown-haired boy's mouth.
Lucas, meanwhile, took a moment to assess the state of his adversary before dashing forward.
His keen eyes noted the slight tremble of his enemy's hands that was quickly suppressed. Nonetheless, that it existed provided ample encouragement to the axe-wielding redhead.
His solemn expression deepened. He wanted to finish this duel within a maximum of one or two strikes.
He would show them the true might of a member of the Stanburg Family!
Nico released another turbid breath. Gazing at Lucas's features, he knew that the climax of the duel had arrived. The next few seconds would decide who the victor would be.
With the quasi-meditative state encompassing his mind, Nico did not panic. Instead, he felt a serene feeling well up inside him that came with knowing what he had to do.
He would give it his all.
The veins on Nico's hands bulged as he increased the grip on the wooden shaft of his spear. His gaze turned sharp analysing the noble's movements before spurring into action.
'First Form - Horizon's Dash!'
The sleek weapon tore through the air. Its counterpart, the double-headed axe cleaved forwards in a similar fashion.
A hush descended across the spectators.
This was it.
This was the decisive moment of the clash.
Clang!
The two weapons collided in a shrill sound.
Nico took a half-step back and swung his spear with all his might, the pain in his shoulder flaring up the more pressure he exerted. Lucas easily blocked the attack and sent a strike of his own.
The brown-haired boy quickly side-stepped and roared in his mind:
'First Form - '
Nico charged forward; the tip of the blunt spear outstretched. Just as the haughty noble was about to stop what he thought was going to be another simple attack, he witnessed his opponent come to a halt.
Nico tensed his entire body, letting the combined pressure from the first form and his momentum build up in his legs. He gritted his teeth before roaring a second time:
'First Form - Horizon's Dash!'
With all the accumulated power, his figure whizzed through the air, small droplets of rain flying past him. A ferocious expression appeared on Nico's face. He released a huge bellow as the pain continued to assault his senses.
'W-what!'
Alarm bells rang in Lucas's mind. His instincts screamed at him to stop the attack at any cost.
With a cry of his own, the noble hastily twisted his torso and sent a devastating upward cleave that crashed into Nico's spear and altered its trajectory.
A cacophony of gasps rang out from the western edge of the square. Henry and Leon's eyes widened as they bit their lips in worry for their friend.
William narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward. His hands itched to intervene, yet he could only do so if a scenario where both trainees were about to injure themselves... or if any lethal strikes were to occur.
Nico clenched his jaw as he held back a cry of agony.
The bruise on his clavicle was becoming unbearable.
Calmly exhaling as his body travelled forward on its accord from the momentum of his previous attack, he gazed at the fiery-haired noble who was preparing to launch another strike from the corner of his eyes.
'Go!'
Nico changed his grip on the spear so that it favoured his left hand. His muscles cried out. They were under enormous strain.
The brown-haired boy forcefully changed direction and with his non-dominant limb thrust at his opponent's throat.
Similarly, Lucas who caught sight of a sudden opening in Nico's guard, gritted his teeth and sent an attack that hurtled toward his rival's midsection.
As the two weapons sang a song of blunted steel, a sound larger than all the previous clashes combined resounded.
The spectating trainees furrowed their brows in confusion as a small dust cloud kicked up in the air.
Once the dust settled, a feverish rush of whispers, and murmurs ensued in the spectators' stand.
Standing in between the two fierce combatants was the form of a white-haired man. With his right hand, William stopped the brown-haired trainee's jab and seized the shaft of the trainee's weapon in an iron grip.
The other one held the noble's axe in place, inches away from Nico's stomach. As his soaked white hair flapped wildly in the wind, the Head instructor's solemn voice streamed into the trainees' ears.
"The result is a draw."
A silent sigh of relief escaped Nico's mouth before he staggered back. Just before he could hit the ground, he felt two pairs of hands gently lay him on the muddy earth.
A small smile appeared on Nico's face before his eyes closed shut.
He had passed the duels.