On the eastern side of a clearing within the East Leaf Wilderness, the clangour of steel resounded full of frantic urgency. The defenders were composed of a pale, raven-haired youth and a tall, broad-shouldered redhead. The attackers, meanwhile, wore cloaks that shrouded their features.
However, the garments failed to obscure the duo's distinctive limp and immensely scrawny physique.
The pale youth clashed against his skinny foe with determined movements. He put everything he had learned in the Training Camp into his strikes, to further bolster its might and any chances of him emerging as the victor.
To his right, his burly companion fought doggedly. The muscles in his stocky frame bulged and rolled beneath his dark attire.
The sledgehammer in his grasp screamed danger, eliciting his opponent to react and dodge quickly, lest the herculean weapon crush him to a paste.
The battle raged on, with no clear signs of a victor…. at first.
Henry and Leon fought with resolute intensity, yet as the seconds continued to pass by, it became increasingly clear that the two trainees could not keep such a drastic pace.
Particularly the young farmer, who had already started gasping for breath, sweat sliding down his face in vast amounts.
Yet, the raven-haired trainee gritted his teeth and lunged at his opponent, refusing to give in to the cries of his muscles. His mouth set in a thin line.
Skinny - his opponent - merely watched on with amusement as the pale trainee in front of him did his utmost to deal with him. The scrawny bandit blocked almost lazily, transferring the boy's momentum against him with a flick of his wrist.
He observed the raven-haired youth hastily step back and block, barely negating his strike.
Skinny grinned viciously. He would have his fun making this young trainee despair.
Everyone had to suffer… just like he did. The bandit's face briefly darkened at the memory, eliciting a shiver to crawl down Henry's spine.
Not paying the pale youth any attention, Skinny ground his teeth hatefully, recalling his childhood. The grip on his sword tightened, his knuckles turning white.
'Damn that old man!'
Taking a deep breath, Skinny's grin stretched exaggeratedly. However, if one were to peer deep into his eyes, a flood of malice burgeoned and exploded forth, trained onto the only target that could help him release his frustration.
A couple of metres to the right, a similar battle was playing out. Leon kept sending his sledgehammer barreling forward, doing his best not to give his opponent any respite. Shifty, however, proved to be too elusive.
Just like many of his opponents these days, the half-blood noted to himself with a hint of irony.
The bandit clutched a pair of daggers in his hands, utilising them with harrowing proficiency. Every time the half-blood exhibited a small opening, Shifty exploited it to the extreme.
Thin streams of crimson liquid matted Leon's body, staining his Camp Uniform. Some parts were torn, particularly on his forearm and thighs, where the blood was better exposed. There was even a thin trickle of blood on his forehead, where he had barely evaded one of his opponent's swift strikes.
He had to thank his lucky stars it only resulted in a glancing blow.
Leon panted, sweat sticking to his palms and threatening to loosen the steady grip he had on his weapon. The half-blood gritted his teeth and stared at his foe with deadly intensity.
Shifty, who was used to people hating his guts, remained unfazed. He suddenly removed the hood of his cloak, letting it drop to his shoulders.
A scar covered one of his eyes. Combined with a greasy beard and a sly, manipulative look, Shifty seemed to possess the picture perfect appearance of the type who engaged in nefarious activities.
His posture was relaxed, not at all like he was currently in a fight.
Leon had a quizzical look in his eyes. Why did the man reveal his identity now?
"Behold how magnanimous I am for granting you the mercy of gazing upon the identity of your killer, just before you meet your end," Shifty spread his arms wide and punctuated his words with a solemn and remorseful expression, as if he was a priest about to exorcise a sinful scourge that plagued humanity.
The burly redhead gritted his teeth harder, repulsion rising from the depths of his being. He utterly detested those two-faced bastards who acted as if whatever they were doing was righteous and upright.
Leon only growled in response. He gripped his weapon tightly, tensing his legs to prepare for a rapid dash.
However, before he got the chance to yell, an enraged bellow resounded from the other side of the small clearing. Leon, Henry and Skinny and Shifty all paused, and turned their heads to stare at the sudden commotion.
There, their gaze reflected an incensed noble, who practically spewed steam from his ears.
"HOW DARE YOU WOUND ME, THE HEIR OF THE STANBURG FAMILY!?" Lucas screamed with indignation, rage tainting his cheeks red.
Nico winced at the other boy's volume. He cleaned his ears and ignored the fiery-haired noble entirely, which only riled Lucas up further.
Just before the arrogant heir could lunge at the piece of trash that had spilled his own, precious blood, a booming voice stopped him in his tracks, "Master Lucas, that's enough! Can't you see he's clearly trying to rile you up?"
Lucas's body trembled, itching to lash out. Yet, the Boss's voice had cleared some of the bloodlust in his eyes.
"Tsk," Nico clicked his tongue, seeing his ploy fail at the last moment. He had wanted to take advantage of the noble's maddened state and rob Lucas of any intelligence during their bout, making his opponent's strikes more predictable and easy to read, thus ensuring a simple victory.
Nico's gaze flitted toward the wound on the Stanburg heir's face, before he smirked.
A dark sense of satisfaction filled his chest.
The brown-haired boy then shifted his head and stared at the leader of the bandits with narrowed eyes. The Boss, meanwhile, inwardly cursed.
That pompous noble had almost thrown the whole operation up in smoke.
A hint of anger flashed through the bald man's face. But just as quickly as it had appeared, he wrestled his emotions under control, back to the bored and laid-back mask.
"I have to applaud you. You have guts, kid," The Boss addressed Nico, acknowledging him with a nod. "However, you have chosen the wrong opponent to mess with. Your actions are extremely futile.."
The bandit leader flicked his eyes toward Shifty and Skinny and nodded subtly. It appeared to be some sort of signal as his men suddenly turned around and began engaging their opponents once more.
Nico frowned. A sinking feeling slowly churned in his stomach.
Suppressing his unease, the boy observed the Boss play with the mirror in his hands, the bandit's mouth parting to spew out some more verbal nonsense.
"It truly is unfortunate that a trainee of your caliber will fall here. I'm sure the warriors on the front-lines could have used some welcome help in the future. Alas…"
Nico ignored the bandit leader's goading tone and stared at Lucas, his smirk widening.
The noble's face twitched.
Just then, a pained cry came from Henry and Leon's direction. Nico's neck snapped toward his two companions, where he found the farmer clutching his shoulder with a pained grimace. Blood stained the area dark red.
The blood vessels in Nico's eyes constricted, turning them bloodshot.
"You should never turn your back on your opponent during a fight."
Instinctually, Nico whirled around and raised his spear desperately, hoping to prevent Lucas's surefire attack. Unfortunately, what greeted his vision was something vastly different.
A crimson light flared, spreading rapidly like a tidal wave through the clearing.
'No!'
Nico froze.
The spear in his hands clattered to the ground…
.. and his eyes turned glassy.