'Alright, I'm almost at the center…!'
Although Zephyr could hear the Spectre closing in on his trail, he had enough of a head start to maneuver through the concrete maze quickly and efficiently.
The Gemini Reactor buzzed with energy, prompting Zephyr to smile.
'The Squire is running pretty smoothly today.'
Soon enough, he reached the center of the artificial metropolis, an open circle devoid of obstructions. Stopping the Squire in its tracks, he waited until a familiar bone-white mech emerged from the street behind him.
For a moment, neither side made a move.
Zephyr stared at the Spectre through his monitor, tightening his grip on the Squire's controls. Up close, Nia's mech stood about a meter taller than his own.
The two mechs began to circle each other, each pilot waiting to see who would make the first move.
Several tense laps around the center passed until the Spectre broke the equilibrium.
Rushing forward, it brandished the estoc in its hand and aimed three separate thrusts at the Squire's torso, left shoulder, and head.
For the first blow, Zephyr raised his longsword strapped on his right side and parried upwards.
'Damn that's heavy.'
As soon as the two blades made contact, Zephyr felt the vibrations from the impact shake the entire chassis of his mech.
For the second blow, Zephyr shifted the Squire back a few steps, using the vambrace fastened on the Squire's left forearm to redirect the attack.
Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, the Spectre continued its assault with another thrust aimed at the Squire's head.
'I won't be able to defend in time!'
In the split second before the attack was about to land, Zephyr launched one of his thermal smoke canisters, which detonated, creating a thick cloud of fog that obscured his vision.
Thankfully, due to his quick reaction the last strike missed its mark. While the smoke was still thick, Zephyr began to create more distance between himself and Nia.
'This is worse than I thought. At this rate, I won't last long without disabling the Squire's parameters.'
Zephyr's mind was racing.
It was already a miracle such an old mech was able to keep up. If he decided to go all out now, Zephyr would need to beat Nia within a five minute time frame. It would be risky to say the least.
"Thermal smoke. I didn't expect that, I'll admit. It was certainly a clever way to interpret the rules."
Nia's indifferent voice came through the open channel.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"However, little tricks like that aren't enough."
The field was still covered in smoke, but the sound of a mech running could still be heard.
Instinctively Zephyr raised his sword ready to guard.
A flash of silver shot through the smoke as the tip of the Spectre's estoc barely grazed the Spectre's head.
Zephyr clicked his tongue as he jumped back.
"Care to explain what just happened?"
Thermal smoke was designed to mask the signature of its user and blind its enemies. Nia didn't exactly seem blind.
"A couple weeks ago, you said I was a privileged daughter who couldn't win without a customized mech."
There was a pause in her voice.
"I've taken the liberty to eliminate the weaknesses of the Spectre by replacing its outdated sensors with modern ones. After all, I'm someone who can't win without a customized mech."
Zephyr felt his eye twitch at the obvious sarcasm dripping from her voice.
The smoke slowly began to dissipate as the two mechs began to lock in another trade of blows. From an outsider's perspective, the Squire was barely holding on, stuck on the defensive as the Spectre continued its onslaught.
Occasionally the estoc would graze the Squire, engraving a shallow groove into its armor as the stronger blows would either be parried or redirected by the older mech's vambrace.
Inside the Squire, Zephyr felt his forehead drip with sweat as he continued to maintain his high levels of focus. This was by far the strongest opponent he had ever faced. To make matters worse, the thermal smoke he had brought was now useless. Launching them would only blind himself while his opponent attacked through the haze with precision.
He gritted his teeth as he parried another thrust from the estoc. His first longsword now had several chips in its blade from the repeated clashes. Zephyr suspected it wouldn't last much longer. Meanwhile Nia's estoc still appeared to be unscratched. It was most likely made from a much higher quality alloy compared to his mass produced blade.
'Should I just go all out now?'
Soon, the Squire stopped, with its back against one of the many concrete towers as the Spectre stood only mere meters away.
"Surrender. You probably already realized that you can't win by now. There is no need to prolong this match any further."
Zephyr didn't respond and instead raised his sword in a seemingly defiant gesture.
"Have it your way," Nia replied, her tone icy.
With no room to retreat further, Zephyr braced himself as the skeletal mech resumed its attack.
For every three attacks the Spectre dished out, the Squire could only respond with two. Even with its back against the wall, Zephyr managed to repel Nia's aggressive strikes. He guarded against attacks that could instantly cripple his mech while simultaneously shifting the Squire's frame to minimize unavoidable blows.
Small bits of damage accumulated on the Squire, but thankfully none were significant enough to damage its main components.
As another flash of silver burst forth, the Squire's knees buckled slightly, causing the estoc to penetrate the concrete wall behind.
Zephyr sucked in a breath as he narrowly avoided the blow. He needed to get into an open space fast.
***
The man known as Francis March was once one of the Republic's strongest figures. When he had been reassigned to act as an instructor, his initial reaction was scorn. As a veteran pilot who had originally been a commoner, looking after a bunch of rich brats was not his idea of a happy retirement.
During his last mission, the ace pilot was inflicted with an injury that had given him partial paralysis in his lower body. Although he mostly healed through extensive rehabilitation to the point where living everyday life was possible, the commanding officers deemed him no longer capable of piloting a mech. A full recovery was available in higher ranking states, however they deemed the price of such an operation too exorbitant for a pilot of his age.
Therefore here he was, resigning himself to acting the role of a chaperone for kids who relied on their parents' wealth to scale the social hierarchy.
Francis stared through the projection at the duel being held currently. Both pilots happened to have interesting backgrounds. One of the two was from the illustrious Sterling family, while the other one happened to somehow enroll through their family's connections.
He had never even heard of the surname Vael. Perhaps it was an influential family that didn't originally belong to the Republic. Nonetheless, the ability to bypass the academy's strict admission requirements had to have meant that his name at least held some power.
Resting his chin on his hand, Francis stared at the duel with growing interest. The Sterling girl was using a foreign current generation mech with an extremely high level of skill unfit for her age, while Zephyr Vael was using a mech he had many fond memories of. If one only compared the specs of both machines, it was obvious the Spectre would be the clear favorite. It trumped the older model in practically every aspect after all.
"That transfer student is constantly on the defensive haha!"
"Nia Sterling is unstoppable!"
"How much longer do you think that arrogant fool can last for?"
"I'll bet three minutes."
"I'll bet two!"
Francis narrowed his eyes.
'This is why I can't stand rich brats.'
Since the match had begun, nearly fifteen minutes have passed since the two mechs made contact. Despite the Squire taking damage consistently, all of it was superficial. Despite the incredible gap in capabilities, Zephyr Vael had managed to hang on just barely. Instead of acknowledging the incredible amount of skill needed to pull off such a feat, the students watching only saw how Zephyr was seemingly on the brink of defeat.
Each time the Squire deflected a blow or avoided an attack, the retired ace felt his heart clench with an indescribable feeling.
The Squire was the first mech he piloted when he enlisted in the mech corps. Ever since it was retired years ago, Francis had not seen the mech used for its original purpose once. As he continued to watch Zephyr narrowly survive the Spectre's aggression, he couldn't help but cheer on the boy internally.
Meanwhile, Kenny felt his hands grow sweatier by the second. Even though he wasn't the one piloting the mech, watching Zephyr give his all made his blood boil.
'That kid really wasn't bluffing.'
Even if Zephyr lost right now, he would be proud to brag that a Squire he serviced lasted so long against a daughter from the Sterling family.
But he knew that wasn't what the boy wanted.
The young pilot only desired victory.
***
Zephyr had finally broken free from the Spectre's relentless attacks as he now began to weave between the inner streets in order to buy time for him to gather his thoughts. By only running in the inner sector, Zephyr could quickly re-enter the center if the Spectre caught up to him.
'I can't keep running forever.'
He looked down at his sword which already had numerous dents engraved into its edge. It was fortunate he brought a spare.
Currently he had five remaining thermal smoke canisters, a damaged longsword, and lastly a spare longsword. The problem Zephyr currently faced was landing a strong enough blow to take his opponent's mech out of commission.
'That estoc is a problem.'
Due to its high frequency of attacks, Zephyr was forced to maintain a certain amount of distance. If he overclocked now, Zephyr had faith he could disrupt Nia's tempo for a brief instant.
The problem was what came after that. He needed to somehow disarm her.
Seconds later, the familiar echo of a mech's footsteps began to grow louder and louder, trailing closely behind him.
"Give me a goddamn break already!" Zephyr gnashed his teeth as frustration began to grow inside him.
Changing course, Zephyr dove back to the empty center as he controlled the Squire to execute a smooth 180 degree pivot as he quickly raised his sword swinging at full force in response to the incoming flash of silver.
'There's no point in thinking more than I need to. Let's just go for it then!'
Zephyr reached his hand towards a switch he added into the Squire's cockpit that allowed him to quickly disable the mech's factory parameters.
Almost immediately, the Squire nearly tipped over after its stabilization software was temporarily disabled.
Grabbing the controls, Zephyr quickly rebalanced himself as he stared at the mech standing before him.
With no room left for hesitation, the Squire charged. The Spectre had taken a half step backwards, perhaps in surprise at the sudden burst of speed the old mech unleashed.
When the Squire came within only a few dozen meters of Nia, rather than raise its sword to attack, it threw the battered blade towards the exotic mech, as it continued to rush closer.
Although it might have seemed like a desperate move, the Spectre was forced to take it seriously. The blade weighed a few hundred to a thousand kilograms, enough to cause heavy damage if it landed.
Which it did not.
But now the Squire was closer than it had ever been. Zephyr had managed to close the distance, something he hadn't been able to do for the entirety of the duel.
Nia raised her estoc in a defensive stance, recognizing for the first time that she might be in trouble.
However, instead of reaching for his spare longsword, Zephyr spread the Squire's arms out and dove forward in a full force tackle.
Instantly, the weight of the several thousand kilogram Squire toppled the Spectre, the innate weakness of a mech showing itself. Due to its high center of gravity, there was absolutely nothing Nia could do when forced into such a close range.
Now the Squire was straddling the Spectre's waist as the bone white mech attempted to break free.
The cockpit of the Squire was rattling continuously as Zephyr did his best to maintain control of the current situation. His hands were shaking from the adrenaline while he inhaled short deep breaths.
He was on a timer now.
Using his left arm to pin down the Spectre's sword arm, he then raised the right arm of the Squire high and proceeded to do the only thing left to do.
Like a hammer beating an anvil, the Squire landed blow after blow, crushing both the Spectre's head and mutilating its own hand in the process.
"Go down, go down, go down…! Go down already!" Zephyr chanted to himself repeatedly as he was reciting a mantra.
The sound of metal colliding against each other was almost melodic.
Nia attempted to stand, but to no avail. The Spectre was originally a ranged mech. Although it was capable of carrying heavy weapons, it didn't necessarily mean its lower frame was strong enough to bear the weight of another medium class mech actively pinning it down.
It was only after the Spectre's head was completely disfigured, did he finally stop. A mech's head held most of the optical sensors as well as computing ability of a mech. Although some mechs may not follow this trend, most did.
Looking down at the unmoving machine beneath him, Zephyr leaned back in his seat, letting his hands loosen from the controls.
'Is it over…?'
The Spectre wasn't moving, as Zephyr looked at his battered mech. The Squire's right hand was completely crushed, exposing the wiring of the old mech. His vambrace on the other hand was damaged to the point where it resembled a piece of scrap metal, while the Squire's motors were barely sputtering, desperately clinging to life.
But hey, at least he could move, right?