"To get the permission I need, I just need to win this tournament?" Sola asked in confirmation.
"If you want to get it the quickest way possible, then yes," Edgar replied.
"Where do I sign up?"
"I am glad to see you are enthusiastic to participate, but you bear in mind the other combatants are some of the most skilled fighters Pedtro has to offer,"
"And I'm one of them," Sola said matter-of-factly.
Edgar smiled in response. After they were all done with their tea three of them were on their way. Yulia received a call from Adeola asking her to meet with her at the market and have her leave the pair on their own. They made their way to a park. Ordan came over to the bench Sola was seated with a hotdog in each hand. He handed one of the hotdogs over to him and sat beside him.
"Are you sure you'll be able to fight in the tournament?" The old man asked.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Sola raised a brow.
"Because the tournament is a bigger deal than you think. With a prize like any wish you want, a whole lot of people will be willing to go above and beyond to get it,"
"Why are you telling me this? Are you trying to say I'm too weak to compete?"
"Well you can't beat me the way I am now, and last time I competed in the tournament, I wasn't able to win," Ordan rolled up the right leg of his pants, revealing a prosthetic leg. "I didn't even make it to the semi-finals before I lost it, and that was over 20 years ago when I was in my prime,"
Sola felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He did not know if he was to be impressed Ordan was able to manoeuvre himself with such finesse despite his disability, or be depressed that a man missing his leg was able to beat him so easily. He could no longer ignore the truth. Since he had begun his journey, he had only gotten weaker.
It was the root of all his problems; his blood. It was more contaminated than it was before his consecutive fights against Darwin Aurst and Jonathan Immortalis. In both fights he had been forced to use Gungnir, causing more filth to accumulate within it. As a result, his body was reaching its limits for certain uses of his blood even faster than before, making it even harder to recover from such fatigue. If that was the case, Sola could no longer rely on his forced adrenaline as much as used to. He was going to have to introduce something else into his fighting style to take the on the load of attacking while his 'blood' manipulation served as support.
"What you're trying to say," He said as the gears clicked in his mind. "Is that you want to teach me how to wield a spear,"
"Bingo!" Ordan smiled. "You've already experienced first-hand the magnificence of the polearm, so why not learn how to use one? The tournament starts 2 weeks from now. Though it's not enough time to master the weapon like I have, it's enough to have the basics down enough to be able to compete at the tournament,"
After their lunch at home, the two made their way to the back of the house with a bunch of polearms. Fred and Seth were seated on a pair of lawn chairs at the back to watch what was about to take place. Ordan stabbed all the polearms into the ground one by one before turning to face Sola. He had an air of seriousness about him that Sola had not felt before. When it came to spears, the old man did not joke around. Ordan approached Sola and grabbed his biceps. Slowly, he dragged his hand across the man's body, mapping out his musculature.
"What are you doing?" Sola asked.
"I'm trying to figure out what kind of spear would suit you," Ordan said unsmilingly.
"Why? Aren't they all just sticks with pointy ends?"
Ordan looked up at Sola with a frown. His eyes glared at him with so much malice it felt as though the dark grey-haired man felt he would combust if he kept looking at him.
"I-I'm sorry,"
"Whatever," Ordan grumbled. "There are different kinds of spears with different properties. Some are longer. Others are very heavy. A few have multiple points. Few talented people can use any spear, like me. Some people can achieve that kind of mastery through hard work, but like I said, we don't have enough time to give you that level of mastery. That's why I want to get you your soulmate spear,"
Ordan went over to the spears. He took his with each one of them, grasping their shafts one by one. With each one he grasps, a frown grows on his face, growing wider with each disappointment. He finally comes upon one last spear that brings a smile to his face. The old man pulled out the spear out of the ground. The spear was long, longer than the Ordan's partisan by a good amount. The blade was long, flat and plain. Despite this, its lack of decoration gave it a sense of elegance that was hard to describe.
"This will do nicely," Ordan smiled. "This kind of spear is called a Yari. Try it out,"
The old man tossed the spear over Sola. He plucked the spear out of the air and twirled it. The balanced weight of the yari felt nice in his hands. Sola began to twirl the spear faster and faster until he smacked himself in the face with the counterweight of the spear. Seth burst out laughing while Fred and Ordan did their best to stifle their laughter. Sola hissed dropping the spear to grab his bleeding nose.
"I think it's a little too early to be trying anything too fancy," Ordan said with a stifled voice.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Sola said nasally. He picked up the yari. "Does it have a name?"
"You're her owner now, so you can call her whatever you want,"
"Then how about Tryfing?"