The camp had fallen deathly silent. All eyes were on Kael and Bran as they stood opposite each other, swords in hand, their breath visible in the cold air. The only sound was the crackling of the campfire nearby.
Bran sneered, his lips twisting into a grin "You've been getting comfortable, haven't you? Time to remind you where you belong."
Kael didn't respond. He knew Bran's type, the kind that fought with pride, always needing to prove something.
Zane stood at the edge of the circle, his arms crossed, eyes sharp. He wasn't getting involved, not yet. Kerric was nearby too, watching, his expression unreadable as ever. Kael could feel Kerric's eyes on him, judging, assessing. This wasn't just about the fight, it was about everything he had been taught.
Bran took a step forward, his blade raised. "Let's see what you've learned, Kael."
They began to circle each other, slow and deliberate. Bran's sword glinted in the firelight as he twirled it lazily in one hand, trying to intimidate Kael with his confidence. But Kael remained focused. He could feel the tension in the air, the weight of every mercenary's gaze on him. They were waiting for the first move.
Kael's mind flashed to Kerric's lessons, strike first, strike hard. But he didn't rush. Not yet. Bran was baiting him, waiting for him to make the first mistake. Kael wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.
Bran swung first, a heavy, diagonal slash meant to test Kael's reflexes. Kael sidestepped, the blade missing him by inches, and countered with a quick jab toward Bran's midsection. Bran blocked it with a snarl, their swords clanging loudly, the sound echoing through the camp.
"Come on, Kael," Bran taunted, stepping back, eyes flashing with aggression. "Is that all you've got?"
The next exchange was faster. Bran's strikes were powerful, but Kael's training had sharpened his instincts. He blocked each blow with precision. Bran pressed the attack, forcing Kael back with a flurry of strikes, but Kael held his ground, refusing to give Bran the satisfaction of seeing him retreat.
Each clash of their blades sent a shock through Kael's arms, the force of Bran's strikes heavier than he had anticipated. But Kael's focus remained clear. He wasn't just reacting, he was watching, waiting for an opening. Bran's aggression was obvious, his strikes full of pride and anger. Kael knew that Bran was pushing himself too hard, too fast. He just needed to hold out until Bran's own impatience would cost him.
Their swords locked, the metal grinding against each other as Bran leaned in close, his breath hot against Kael's face. "You think you're special, don't you? Think Kerric's favor will protect you?"
Kael gritted his teeth, pushing Bran back with a surge of strength. "I don't need Kerric's protection."
As the fight wore on, Kael's mind began to slip into the lessons Kerric had drilled into him over the weeks. Stay calm, stay focused. Use your enemy's anger against them. Bran was reckless, fighting with emotion, and it was starting to show. Each of his strikes was a little slower, a little less precise.
But Kael wasn't invulnerable. His arms ached, his body still recovering from the brutal training he had endured. Every swing of his sword reminded him of how much was at stake.
A quick glance at the circle of mercenaries confirmed what Kael already knew, they were watching closely, waiting to see who would come out on top. Zane's expression remained impassive , but Kael could tell he was paying attention. Whatever happened here would change how the others saw him.
Bran, frustrated by Kael's refusal to give ground, began fighting more recklessly. His swings became wilder, more forceful, each one aiming to overpower. Kael's blade deflected one blow after another, but the force behind Bran's attacks was taking its toll. His muscles burned with every block, every parry.
"You're nothing, Kael," Bran snarled, his breath ragged as he swung his sword in a wide arc. Kael ducked, the blade missing him by a hair.
He couldn't keep dodging or parrying forever, Bran's strength was relentless, and Kael knew he needed to strike back before his own stamina ran out.
The crowd of mercenaries murmured in anticipation, watching the battle grow more intense. Bran's attacks were becoming sloppier. He was like a cornered animal, lashing out with all his strength, and Kael was the one standing in his way.
In a desperate attempt to regain control, Bran swung low, aiming for Kael's legs. Kael barely managed to dodge, his body twisting to the side as Bran's blade sliced through the air. But it wasn't enough.
Bran's next move was faster than Kael expected. A brutal kick to Kael's chest sent him stumbling back, his feet sliding in the dirt. The force of the blow knocked the wind from his lungs, and for a moment, Kael's vision blurred.
He hit the ground hard, gasping for breath as Bran loomed over him, sword raised high.
The camp held its breath.
Kael's fingers tightened around his sword, his mind racing. This was it, the moment where he either stood up or stayed down. He couldn't fail, not now. Not with everyone watching. Not with Kerric watching.
As Bran moved in for the final blow, Kael rolled to the side, swinging his sword in a desperate, last-ditch effort to regain control.
The camp was still, the air thick with tension. Every mercenary had their eyes locked on Kael and Bran, their breaths held as the fight teetered on the edge. Kael's body screamed in protest, his muscles aching from the brutal blows Bran had landed. But his grip on the sword tightened. He wasn't done yet.
Bran sneered, his sword raised, his stance wide and full of overconfidence. He thought Kael was finished. He thought wrong.
Kael rolled to his feet, the impact of Bran's last attack still echoing through his chest.The dirt beneath his feet shifted as he found his balance again, his heart pounding in his ears.
Bran's grin faded slightly as Kael stood. "You don't know when to quit, do you?"
Kael said nothing, his eyes focused and cold.
Bran lunged, his sword slicing through the air with brutal force. Kael sidestepped, just barely avoiding the blade as it cut through the space where he had been standing. Bran's momentum carried him forward, leaving him momentarily off-balance. Kael saw the opening.
Kael struck quickly, his blade flashing toward Bran's side. The impact of the strike wasn't deep, but it was enough to send Bran stumbling, his grip on his sword loosening. Bran cursed, swinging wildly to regain control, but Kael was already moving, his strikes precise and controlled.
Each clash of their swords sent a shockwave through Kael's arms, but he held his ground. Bran was losing his patience, his strikes becoming more erratic, more desperate. The wild swings that had once threatened to overpower Kael were now leaving Bran exposed.
"You've already lost, Bran," Kael growled, his voice steady despite the fatigue creeping into his body.
Bran's face twisted into a snarl, his eyes wild with frustration. "I'm not losing to you!"
He charged again, his sword raised high for a crushing blow. Kael saw it coming, another reckless attack, another mistake. Kael dropped low, dodging Bran's strike and slashing upward with his own blade. The tip of Kael's sword caught Bran's arm, sending a spray of blood into the dirt.
Bran let out a roar of pain, stumbling back, his hand instinctively clutching his injured arm. Kael didn't let up. He pressed the attack, driving Bran back with a series of quick strikes.
Bran was bleeding now, his strength waning with every wild swing. His breathing was ragged, his movements less precise. Kael could see the desperation in his eyes. Bran had underestimated him, and now he was paying the price.
The camp watched in stunned silence, the sound of swords clashing filling the air. Kael could feel the weight of their gazes, but his focus remained on Bran. He couldn't afford to make a mistake now.
Bran swung again, a heavy, downward strike aimed at Kael's head. Kael sidestepped, his sword flashing upward in a counterstrike. The blade cut deep into Bran's side, and Bran let out a guttural cry of pain, his sword falling from his hand as he collapsed to one knee.
Kael stood over him, his chest heaving, blood dripping from the tip of his sword. Bran's eyes were wide with shock, his face pale as he clutched his side, the wound deep and bleeding profusely.
"You think you're better than me?" Bran spat, blood flecking his lips. His voice was weak now, the fight drained out of him.
Kael looked down at him, his grip tightening on his sword. The crowd was silent, waiting to see what Kael would do next.
Kael could end it now. One swift strike and Bran would be finished. The thought lingered in Kael's mind, but something held him back. He had won. Bran was beaten, and everyone knew it.
Kael took a slow breath, his sword hovering just inches from Bran's throat. Bran stared up at him, his eyes wide with fear and rage. But Kael didn't deliver the killing blow. Instead, he stepped back, lowering his sword.
"I don't need to kill you to prove I'm better," Kael said, his voice steady.
Bran's face twisted in anger, but the fight was gone from him. He slumped forward, clutching his side as blood dripped onto the ground. Kael turned away, his chest heaving, the adrenaline slowly fading from his system.
Kerric stepped forward, his expression as unreadable as ever. He looked between Kael and Bran, then nodded slightly. "Enough."
The camp remained silent, watching as Kerric approached Kael. The older mercenary's gaze lingered on him for a moment, a flicker of approval in his eyes.
"You did well," Kerric said quietly, his voice carrying just enough for Kael to hear.
The camp slowly began to disperse, the mercenaries returning to their tasks, but there was a noticeable shift in the air. Kael had earned their respect, or at least, their fear. He could see it in the way they looked at him now, warier, more cautious.
Zane approached, his expression with a grin on his face. "That was... impressive."
Kael wiped the blood from his sword, glancing at Zane. "Had to be done."
Zane nodded, his eyes flicking toward Bran, who was being helped away by a couple of the other mercenaries. "Bran won't forget this. Be careful."
Kael didn't respond, but he knew Zane was right. Bran's pride was shattered, but he wasn't dead. And a man like Bran didn't forget.
Kerric lingered near the edge of the camp, his gaze fixed on Kael. He said nothing, but Kael knew this was only the beginning. The fight was over, but the real challenges were just beginning.