Amukelo's news to Bral and Idin about the upcoming sparring match with Padrin sent ripples of surprise and excitement through his friends. They gathered around him, their faces a mix of awe and encouragement. "That's incredible, Amukelo! To think you'll be sparring with Padrin, again," Bral exclaimed, clapping Amukelo on the back with a robust thump. Idin chimed in, his tone infused with a blend of jest and sincerity, "You've outpaced us by miles, mate. Just don't get too famous to forget us, eh?" They all shared a laugh, though the weight of the opportunity was palpable in their expressions.
As they parted ways to let Amukelo prepare, Bral and Idin exchanged a knowing glance. "Should we tell the others?" Bral whispered, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Absolutely, let's not keep the suspense all to ourselves," Idin replied with a wink. They both knew that the news of such a high-stakes match would stir excitement and perhaps a bit of friendly betting among their circle.
Hours later, Sabrif led Amukelo to the venue for the sparring match. This wasn't just any training room; it was the grand arena of the facility, designed for the most prestigious bouts. The arena was vast, surrounded by rising tribunes packed with spectators. As Amukelo stepped through the entrance, a roar of anticipation greeted him. His heart raced as he scanned the crowd, spotting Bral, Idin, Pao, and Bao among the faces. Pao's voice cut through the murmur, her shout brimming with support, "Amu, you have to win this!"
Amukelo raised his fist in response, a gesture of resolve, but inside, his nerves twisted tighter. The presence of his friends added an extra layer of pressure—he didn't just want to win for himself now; he wanted to show off to his friend.
Padrin's entrance was met with even greater fanfare, his popularity evident in the deafening cheer that followed him. As both competitors faced each other in the center of the arena, the atmosphere was electric, charged with the buzz of dozens of conversations and bets being placed.
Up in the tribunes, Pao leaned over to whisper to Bral, her voice laced with concern, "I hope he'll be fine. Winning this could change much for him." Bral nodded confidently, "He's got this. I'd bet on it."
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a skeptical voice from behind, "I bet he will lose." Hearing that, Pao said to Bral, "I don't think that it is a good idea. Let's leave betting to others," Idin and Bao nodded agreeably. But then another voice cut their conversation, "Oh, lady. So you are scared that your friend will lose? You are not certain of his victory?" The man remarked.
The remark sparked a fire in Pao. Her allegiance to Amukelo was fierce. Bao said to Pao calming her, " Don't listen to him, he's just..." But before she could finish her sentence spinning around, Pao retorted sharply, "What did you just say? I'll bet everything I have on him!" Her outburst drew a mixture of chuckles and surprised looks from Bral, Idin, and especially Bao who was in the middle of her sentence. They exchanged awkward laughs as the crowd around them grew more and more, with most of them betting against Amukelo.
Unaware of the betting frenzy he'd sparked, Amukelo glanced towards the stands, puzzled by the animated exchanges and gesturing. His focus then snapped back to Padrin as the master of the arena stepped forward to announce the start of the match.
The arena fell eerily quiet at the master's command, his voice booming across the space, unnaturally amplified to quell the growing noise of the crowd. The silence was almost palpable, with only the soft whispers of last-minute bets being placed near Pao breaking it. The individuals quietly approached her, murmuring their stakes, their voices a sharp contrast to the charged silence that the master's presence commanded.
The master, standing firm with an authoritative air, continued, "This duel is unlike any typical training match. The terms are set to measure true combat readiness and the potential for partnership between these two fighters." His gaze swept over the crowd, ensuring every spectator was attentive and understood the gravity of the duel. "Let the fight begin!" he declared, stepping back to give the fighters full reign of the arena.
Instantly, the sound of clashing metal rang out as Amukelo and Padrin met in the center of the arena. Their blades collided with force, sparks flying from the contact. Padrin, with a confident smirk, complimented Amukelo, "You've got stronger since our last sparring. Make sure you keep up!" His tone was both taunting and encouraging.
As they broke apart from the initial clash, both circled each other, analyzing and anticipating the next move. They engaged again, swords clanging loudly, each block and parry executed with increasing intensity. Amukelo, his focus sharpened, managed to counter Padrin's sophisticated maneuvers, remembering his training in deflecting such attacks. However, the relentless pace set by Padrin began to push him back, step by step, towards the arena's edge.
Realizing his precarious position, Amukelo glanced back, mindful not to trap himself against the wall. Seizing the momentary distraction, Padrin feinted to the left then swiftly moved to the right, creating an opening. He lunged forward, his blade aimed precisely where he anticipated Amukelo would be less defended.
Amukelo's reaction was instinctive; knowing that he had no time to block or parry the attack, he twisted his body desperately, attempting to dodge the blade's deadly path. Despite his efforts, the sharp steel grazed the side of his torso, slicing through the fabric of his gear and into the flesh beneath. It was a clean cut, not deep enough to be fatal but significant enough to meaningfully damage him for the rest of the fight.
The crowd reacted instantaneously, those who had placed their bets on Padrin erupting into cheers, their voices filling the arena with a raucous sound. Conversely, Pao's expression tightened, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The worry was evident on her face as she watched the duel unfold, her teeth gritted in tension. Her concern for Amukelo was clear, mixed with a fierce hope that he would not only recover from this setback but also find a way to turn the duel around. She believed in Amukelo, but she couldn't help but be concerned about him.