As the evening wound down after their sumptuous meal, Yosue led Amukelo, Eliss, and Erohan through the serene, lamp-lit streets of the city to their accommodations for the night. The air was cool, carrying the gentle scent of flowering trees that lined their path. While walking, Yosue turned to Amukelo and Erohan with a hopeful look in his eyes, a hint of challenge in his tone. "Would you spar with me? I'm curious about your combat skills," he asked, his respectful tone making it clear it was as much about learning as it was about testing their mettle.
Amukelo's response was immediate and enthusiastic, the prospect of a friendly match sparking interest in his eyes. Erohan, however, declined with a polite but firm demeanor. As a dragon, he found little need to engage in such human pursuits, and his abilities were not something he wished to test lightly.
The following morning, after a night of rest in the simple yet comfortable lodgings provided by their hosts, Amukelo met Yosue at the designated sparring grounds—an open area edged by tall, whispering bamboo and the soft, manicured grass underfoot giving it a secluded, almost sacred feel. Yosue, dressed in his practice garb, complimented Amukelo on his armor as they prepared.
"It's very fancy armor you have," Yosue remarked, eyeing the intricate design and the robust look of Amukelo's gear.
Amukelo, fastening the last straps, smiled proudly. "It's a special reward, earned through many trials," he explained, his voice carrying a mix of pride and nostalgia for the challenges he had faced to earn such a piece.
On the sidelines, Eliss watched with a mixture of amusement and anticipation. She knew Amukelo's capabilities well and doubted that Yosue, despite his evident skill, would pose much of a challenge to him. As she pondered this, a group of local warriors, most likely Yosue's classmates approached, their attire similar to Yosue's but each bearing unique elements that likely signified their individual achievements or ranks.
The largest of the group, a burly man with an easy smile, engaged Eliss in conversation. "What chances do you give Yosue against your friend?" he inquired, a playful glint in his eye.
Eliss, taken aback by the question but not wanting to seem dismissive of their skills, responded cautiously. "I don't think he stands much chance, not to underestimate your friend, but I just know Amukelo's abilities," she admitted, her honesty tinged with a respectful nod towards the sparring ground.
The man's smile broadened at her answer. "Let's see then," he said, his tone suggesting a friendly wager on the outcome.
As Amukelo and Yosue took their positions opposite each other, the atmosphere around the sparring ground thickened with anticipation. Just as they were about to commence, a new figure appeared, his presence commanding immediate respect from Yosue and the group that had gathered around Eliss.
This was their teacher, a venerable man with a long white beard and a bald head, draped in a bright yellow kimono that contrasted sharply against his aged features. His eyes, sharp and discerning, swept over the assembled group before settling on Yosue and Amukelo.
"What are we doing here?" he asked, his voice deep and resonant, carrying across the morning air.
Yosue, bowing deeply, replied, "I wish to learn from our new friend's abilities, Sensei."
The teacher nodded thoughtfully, then turned his gaze towards the small crowd. "It is a great idea," he acknowledged, his words deliberate and considered. "But such a test should be done in a more official manner, in front of the Shogun. It is only fitting to honor both your guest's skills and our traditions."
The simple sparring session between Amukelo and Yosue had escalated into an event of considerable significance, drawing the attention of not just the local warriors but also the highest echelons of society, including the Shogun himself. The grand hall was now transformed into a bustling arena, with the Shogun seated prominently on a luxurious balcony that afforded him a clear view of the unfolding drama. His presence alone lent the event an air of solemnity and grandeur.
Erohan joined Eliss in the tribunes, his dragon senses picking up on the charged atmosphere. "What's going on?" he asked, his gaze scanning the crowd and settling on the arena.
Eliss, still adjusting to the sudden scale of the event, explained, "A simple spar turned into a big event." She watched the arena intently, noting the anticipation of the crowd.
Erohan, sensing the strength of the combatants below, remarked, "Yosue is strong," an observation to which Eliss nodded in agreement. However, she quickly added, "But I still believe Amukelo will win."
Erohan simply continued to observe the arena, offering no response to her assertion. Nearby, the group from earlier was actively betting on Yosue's victory, discussing how quickly he would defeat Amukelo. Their confidence irked Eliss, prompting her to intervene. "I'll bet with you that Amukelo will win," she declared boldly, her voice tinged with irritation.
The group turned to her, skepticism on their faces. "And what can you offer?" they challenged.
Eliss didn't hesitate. "My staff," she said, holding up the weapon that had accompanied her throughout their journey. It was a powerful weapon, imbued with magic and memories. The group hesitated, seeing little use for staff among themselves. But one girl in the group, recognizing its craftsmanship and potential value, persuaded the others, "We can sell it for a lot. Just imagine, a staff that is clearly well-made and comes from an unknown territory. We can sell it for a fortune."
With that, they agreed to the bet, putting their money against Eliss's prized staff. Erohan, concerned, who never saw Amukelo's capabilities, leaned in and whispered, "Was that a good idea? If you lose, you won't have any money to buy a new staff, not to mention one of this quality."
Eliss merely smiled and confidently replied, "Just watch him."
Meanwhile, Yosue's sensei, standing adjacent to the Shogun, leaned in to provide some context to the high-ranking spectator. "Yosue is our best adept," he explained with a hint of pride in his voice, "and today, he tests his skills against an outsider. I am quite curious about this Amukelo's power."
The Shogun, whose interest was already piqued, simply nodded in response, his eyes never leaving the arena. He was particularly intrigued by Amukelo's armor—the dark, almost living armor adorned with red parts that seemed to pulse with an inner life. Legend had it that the demigod Eldrian, known in ancient tales for facing Satan himself, wore similar armor during the ancient war described in the oldest scrolls. The Shogun wondered silently if this was merely a coincidence or if Amukelo truly was someone worthy of such legendary attire.
As the spectators settled and the murmurs of the crowd grew into a crescendo of anticipation, Amukelo and Yosue took their positions at opposite ends of the arena. The air between them was thick with tension, each warrior's stance reflecting a deep focus and readiness. The audience, sensing the imminent clash, fell into a hushed silence, their collective breath seeming to hang in the balance.
On the tribunes, Eliss watched with unwavering confidence in her friend, her staff clutched tightly in her hands as a reminder of the wager at stake. Beside her, Erohan remained stoic yet alert, his dragon senses attuned to the subtle energies emanating from the fighters below.
The Shogun fixed his gaze on Amukelo, whose presence in such mythic armor added layers of depth to the contest. It was more than a test of strength; it was a moment of cultural significance, potentially validating the legends that had been passed down through generations.