Adaptation (3): Sudden Sparring Match
I was just stuffing my face when out of nowhere, a duel got arranged. They voiced their complaints first, so we responded in kind—but something felt off. Like the roles of host and guest had flipped.
Given the circumstances, even President Lord couldn't step in personally. Like it or not, I had to follow the storyline, so I figured I'd just make a bit of an impression. On top of that, I needed to test just how strong my raw power really was. Fighting a person instead of monsters or beasts? That was a first.
"I've told you time and again—no killing, got it?"
"Shibal. (Got it.)"
"Ellie says you see him as one of your own, but I'm still worried."
As we arrived at the training grounds to prepare for the duel, Lord hammered the point home to me yet again. He seemed genuinely terrified I'd end up killing Elvin. I got it, sure—but the hand gestures and emphasis made me feel like a total idiot. Even nodding didn't stop the nagging.
Why are all these people crowding in?
The United Academy had a dedicated building for sparring—more like an arena, really. It was mainly for entrance exams or later events. With exams over, it'd see use for duels like this. Even without official events, it got plenty of action. Nothing honed skills like a good spar.
But unless it involved a high-profile student, spectators were rare.
What's there even to see? That guy, maybe?
I glanced at the packed spectator stands. People had started gathering while we prepped. Rumors couldn't have spread that fast across the whole academy, so Elvin was probably the draw.
Whatever.
All I had to do was fight a human. Nothing more. Still, some prep was in order. Lord guided me along, explaining the rules: end it when the opponent passes out, no killing, and if I even hinted at murder, he'd intervene personally. Come to think of it, he was being pretty nice to me. Maybe I was a welcome distraction from his boredom.
"Pick a weapon you like."
"Oh..."
I marveled at the iron weapons racked up before me. After nothing but stone axes and spears, metal felt novel. Wonder if these can handle my mana. Stone ones shattered after one use, like disposables.
"If you're torn, why not try a sword?"
Lord subtly pushed the blade—probably because he was the Sword Saint himself. But I could only swing or stab. Blunt weapons and spears suited me better. Ignoring his nudge, I grabbed a decent one-handed axe and spear.
"Pity. You don't appreciate a sword's elegance?"
He looked a tad crestfallen. A man his age acting like that—what gives?
Can I take more? Just in case?
For my Throw skill, extras would've been handy. As I reached for another, Lord cut in sternly.
"No. Only two weapons allowed."
"Shibal? (Why?)"
"Rules... No point explaining. Just no."
He shook his head firmly instead of elaborating. Whatever the rule, no choice. These would do.
"Maybe you have a collector's habit."
No. Just fascinated by iron.
"One more time—no killing. He's no prey. Got it?"
"Shibal. (Got it.)"
"I accepted because I'm curious about your skills, but now I wonder if this was a mistake..."
If you're regretting it, why not bail earlier? Now I'm stuck dealing with this. Grumbling inwardly, I followed Lord as he led the way. He'd be the referee—surprising, since in the game he just munched popcorn from the stands.
Who knows what he's thinking.
-That guy's the one?
-Looks like it.
-Isn't he from the Hwan Empire?
-First time I saw him, he was pure savage. Got a haircut, though.
With prep done, we headed to the arena center amid a buzz of whispers. Nothing like the harmonious chirps and insect calls of the forest. Some mutters turned nasty, souring my mood. My top-tier senses caught every word, wanted or not.
Trailing silently behind Lord, I spotted Elvin approaching from the opposite side. His outfit was practical now, suiting his handsome face no matter what.
Using a sword, like I remember.
Plain blade, but his techniques mattered more. I was hardware-strong but skill-poor. No room for complacency.
"You know—no killing. I'll stop you if I see it coming."
"Understood."
"Sivar, you too..."
Got it. Already know. His nagging hit ramble level, so I tuned it out. Priority: size up the opponent. Elvin had solid utility long-term. No slacking now.
Whoo!
As we stood dumbly, Lord stepped back and blew a sharp whistle. Why not use the ref's whistle? Unfathomable guy.
"Don't like barbarians, and now savages crawling in... What is the president thinking?"
"?"
That's aimed at me. I tilted my head at Elvin's mutter. His scowl screamed hostility.
"United Academy hitting its end? Letting in someone not even fully human."
"..."
"Not a monster, so why the red eyes? Is he even human?"
Hey, mister. I hear every mutter. Speak softer if you don't want me to. Or is it for me? Earlier pride talk, and his ego's massive. Wonder if he's salvageable—then he got serious, assuming stance. A feral aura seeped out. Even without Wild Instinct, I knew it targeted me.
They started it, so time to respond. Grimacing, I acted.
Pang!
Hurled the spear from my right hand—light toss. No warning. Elvin panicked but twisted away nimbly.
Kwak!
It flew far, embedding in the wall. Pure muscle throw, no mana, so no boom. Now just the axe in my left.
Axe for fighting. Wanted to chuck it too and go bare-handed—my best—but too revealing.
Shing!
Meanwhile, Elvin charged, slashing diagonally. Wind-whistling speed—skilled, alright. Quick finish tempted, but I wanted to test him. Dodged his flurry backward.
Shak! Horizontal slash? One step back.
Shyik! Diagonal? Body twist.
Minimal moves evaded all.
Slow.
Clean strikes, but honest and sluggish—by my standards. No big tells or gaps. Just dodgeable with eyes.
Even Chaos Forest snakes triggered my Wild Instinct with sharper moves.
Skilled, sure.
Slow to me, but objectively top-notch. Attacks stayed steady—no wobble on diagonals, horizontals, or thrusts.
Me? Specs hid my lacks versus him. Pure evasion now; attacking would expose flaws.
"Hoo..."
His barrage halted. Tense face—he sensed something off.
He stopped; my turn. Before he caught breath, I advanced.
Thud—thud—thud—
Elvin tensed double-gripping his sword, poised to counter. But I did nothing—even up close.
"..."
"..."
"...What're you—"
Kang!
Not no attack. Baiting laxity. Before his question finished, I swung the axe low-to-high ferociously. No wind-up, wild swing—but faster than his.
"Kuh...!"
Startled, he blocked desperately. Sword held—no break. Mana-reinforced durability, maybe. But shock shoved him sliding back.
I crouched low as he flew. When he halted, I stomped hard.
Kwang!
Recoil launched me forward. Distance vanished. I smashed down with the axe—aim: his head. Way stronger than before. Block, and it'd shatter.
Sensing doom, he dodged wildly—side-roll.
Whoosh!
Axe cleaved empty air. Miss, but no regret. Just probe. Head-shot habit.
Tat-dat—
Right hand braced ground, spun, landed feather-light. Compared to his flop, graceful. I steadied, eyed him. Shock—couldn't fathom the pushback. All dodges, even body-flinging mine.
Spec gap crushed technique.
"...Truly a beast."
I know. Forest life demanded agility. Big monsters like Monkey everywhere—slips meant maims. Had to evolve moves.
"..."
Elvin glared, waiting, sword gripped tight. Planning counter on my next lunge. Treating me like real beast? Fine, but time to show thought.
Kwang!
Launched again, axe swinging. Distance closed fast, but he stayed cool.
Creak—
Then—a smug grin. Hooked. He sidestepped right—vanished from view.
Shing—
Blade tip incoming instead. Reversed my charge. My old trick.
This path? Face sliced.
Iron King trait or not—risky.
So.
Kwaduk!
Bit down hard. Mana-shielded teeth—no damage.
"Wha...!"
He tumbled, yanked by momentum. Landed, sword still in jaws. His face? Priceless.
"Y-You beast...!"
Strained to wrench free. My bite stronger. Wild necessity—used teeth post-limb breaks. They regrew always. Safe bet.
Kwaduduk!
"Uh...?"
Too hard? Ominous sword creak. He froze, staring blankly.
Doomed anyway—crunched harder.
Kwajik!
Sparring sword snapped clean. Steel, yet fragile. Prior block likely chipped durability.
"Ptoo."
Spit metal shards. Elvin alternated stares: ruined sword, me. Dream or reality? Lost.
My job: reality check.
Thump!
"Kuhk!"
Closed in during daze, grabbed throat. He flailed wildly. Mana surge from hands incoming.
Slammed him groundward—no delay.
Chokeslam, wrestling-style. Self-taught.
Kuwoong!
"Guhk!"
Back-first: breath-stealing stun. Eyes bulged—confirmed. Pre-mana protect, so immobilized.
Final blow time.
Kwak!
"Kuhk...!"
Throat-grip pinned him. Raised axe overhead. Downswing? Skull split.
Won't really.
"That's enough."
Axe mid-drop—familiar voice. Instinct halted at unseen force. Looked up: Lord, unknowing approach. Gentle smile, but pressure.
"No killing, remember. Hope you understand."
"..."
I know. Edged glances. One smack tempted—but awkward. Public insults deserve payback.
Swish—
Axe raised, hesitating—Lord pulled something from pocket, offered. Brown candy atop palm.
Nurungji flavor—delicious last time. Instinct screamed: Eat! Bliss!
Mouth watered; axe lowered slow. Throat-grip loosened.
Whip!
Battle over—he tossed candy. Arced perfectly to face. Mouth agape, caught and munched.
Nurungji sweetness and savor filled me.
"You alright?"
"Y-Yes. I'm fine."
Candy bliss amid, Lord helped Elvin up. He gawked: snapped sword, me. Unbelievable still.
"You know—you lost. Hope you honor your words."
"..."
Elvin eyed me at Lord's words. I chewed candy, met gaze. Complex face.
Overwhelmed by "beast," plus tooth-shattered steel incredibility. Apology odds high with president watching.
"...Sorry."
Bowed as expected. Paused, recalled something, asked Lord.
"But... does he even understand words?"
"Doubt it. He'll remember later, though."
"..."
Uneasy look. Still bowed apology again. Many watchers—even if I don't get it.
"Just in case, give him candy. Might see you as good guy."
"This is...?"
"Nurungji candy."
Handed one. Elvin baffled, naturally. Lord—really sees me as animal?
"Here..."
During thoughts, Elvin extended tentatively. Unsure face.
"Yam."
Snapped it up. No refusing gifts. He watched, face more tangled. Prideful him—first time flustered.
Feels like forced affinity grind.
Whatever. Candy-givers are good people.