Neil's pov:
I squared off against my opponent in the arena. With each movement, I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins, fueling my determination to succeed. 22 Nalrai coins,remember that…
As he lunged towards me, I anticipated his attack, sidestepping the blade with a swift motion, I could call his slash from a kilometer so it was easy job to dodge it. Seizing the opportunity, I closed the distance between us.
With a precise touch to his left arm , I activated my ability ,and sure enough the man felt his arm becoming heavier and heavier, the fool really brought chainmail on a match with wooden sword….Anyway, I disrupted his balance, sending him off-kilter. As he stumbled, I capitalized on the opening, sweeping his legs out from under him while pushing him backward with my right hand.
With a thud, he hit the ground, momentarily stunned by the sudden reversal of fortune. Moving quickly, I pressed my advantage, immobilizing him with precise touches to his legs, chest, and shoulder. With each contact, I ensured his incapacity, securing my victory in the bout.
The watcher approached, his footsteps echoing softly in the arena as he knelt beside my defeated opponent. With a commanding presence, he motioned for me to stay back, a silent indication that he would assess the situation.
Come on get up man…it was too easy.I needed more
I complied, though my mind raced with frustration.. Less than two minutes had passed since the fight began, and victory had come too easily.
As the watcher deliberated, nodding his approval to the jury, I cursed under my breath. This was not the challenge I had hoped for, there was no way I could get enlisted by a noble with this much.
Frantically, I scanned the arena, searching for inspiration. Then, it struck me—a way to turn this mundane victory into something more memorable.
With a surge of impulsive determination, I snatched the wooden sword from where it lay discarded on the ground. Raising it high, I aimed its tip toward the VIP area, my gaze fixated on a figure amidst the spectators—Favian Delecroix.
I was no fool to think that I could beat him, but maybe if I fought him long enought just maybe then I could catch the eye of someone, I would not have used such extreme method if I was not lacking in time.
Silence fell over the arena as all eyes turned to me, their expressions a mix of surprise and anticipation. For a brief moment, I held my stance, my gaze unwavering, locked on Favian.
But then, the watcher approached with a furrowed brow, his disapproval evident as he reached out to retrieve the sword from my grasp. Reluctantly, I relinquished it, though my eyes remained fixed on Favian, a silent challenge lingering in the air.
Suddenly, a short laugh echoed from Favian's lips, breaking the tension that hung over the crowd. Heads turned toward him, curiosity flickering in their eyes as they awaited his response.
Favian turned towards the grandmaster, exchanging a few hushed words with him, their conversation known to them only . Then, a subtle smile crept onto Favian's lips, a glint of excitement flashing in his eyes.
Without hesitation, he leaped gracefully from the VIP area down to the arena floor, his movements fluid and confident. He approached the jury and just like with the grandmaster he spoke in hushed tones. The jury members listened intently before nodding in agreement, their expressions betraying a hint of anticipation.
With a sense of anticipation buzzing in the air, the watcher was called back, his presence once again requested in the center of the arena. It seemed that Favian had accepted the challenge, it was my opportunity.
I knew that facing Favian in combat would be no easy task. His reputation preceded him, and I was acutely aware of the odds stacked against me.All I wanted was to make my mark.
With a firm grip on my wooden sword, I positioned myself for the impending clash, my muscles tense with anticipation. Across the arena, I caught sight of Favian, his expression one of amusement tinged with curiosity. He tilted his head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, as if he found the situation rather entertaining.
As the tension mounted, Favian surprised me by assuming a stance without a weapon, his hands empty at his sides. It was a bold move.
''I will give you a small advantage, make use of it'' He said his smile widening as I lunged foward
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Favian's Pov:
As I observed Neil from across the arena,I took notice of anything worhtwhile to remember . He stood tall, his posture reflecting a blend of confidence and determination. His short brown hair framed his face, accentuating his sharp features, while his intense brown eyes seemed to betray a sense of focused resolve.
Neil's muscles tensed as he gripped the wooden sword, there was a sense of determination etched into every line of his expression, a silent declaration of his commitment to the fight.
Amidst the sea of trash , perhaps there was a glimmer of potential worth exploring. His physical prowess was undeniable, , but there were glaring flaws in his approach to combat.
Neil's reliance on his singular skill was too evident, too predictable. He approached each engagement with a narrow-mindedness that limited his options and left him vulnerable to exploitation. While his proficiency with his ability was commendable, it lacked the versatility and adaptability necessary for true mastery.
In my mind, I couldn't help but critique his approach, noting the missed opportunities and strategic errors that underscored his performance. His tactics were too direct, too straightforward, lacking the nuance and subtlety required for success in a fight.
Hell! I could be using his skill thousands of different way while he was able to use it in only one….
Despite his shortcomings, there was a kernel of potential buried beneath the surface, waiting to be unearthed and honed into something greater. If Neil could broaden his perspective, embrace the full spectrum of possibilities afforded by his skill, he could transcend the limitations that currently held him back.