Boys Grow Up Fighting (1)
The trial duel. Gawain served as the judge. First up was me against Lindel. Second would be Richard versus Argon. Though deeply personal grudges fueled these matches, they were still officially part of the lesson. Gawain made sure to stress that.
"I know private feelings are involved on both sides, but this duel is part of the training. Keep that in mind."
"Yes, sir."
We four answered in unison. But the other three didn't seem to give a damn about it being a lesson. Their faces were fierce as hell.
"The rules are simple. It ends the moment one side surrenders or the judge—who's overseeing as observer—deems them unable to continue fighting."
Lindel glared daggers at me, then sneered. He was probably picturing me groveling in surrender. Big dreams.
"The loser of the trial duel must grant the winner's request. What do you each demand from your opponent?"
"Argon." Richard jumped right in. "I want that little... no, that guy to sincerely apologize for insulting Judah."
"If I win," Argon shot back without missing a beat, "you'll apologize for looking down on me and Lindel."
Gawain calmly noted their demands. Then Lindel spoke up.
"Judah. Same goes for you. If I lose, get on your knees and beg."
I barely held back a laugh. A trial duel was a brute-force way to settle things—might makes right, who cares about actual fault. The winner could demand anything: cash reparations, handing over your parents' or daughter's marriage prospects, or total submission for months. You name it.
But these guys? All they wanted was an apology. So pure. Kids are kids, after all. It was oddly cute, didn't fit their tough act. Reminded me of those little ones I'd let win back in the gym.
"Judah. Your demand."
Gawain prompted me. I thought for a second, then gave my answer.
"If I win, I want acknowledgment."
"Acknowledgment of what? Be specific."
"Lindel senior needs to acknowledge his reality. That's it."
"...Understood."
First match: me and Lindel. In the center of the training ground. The other candidates formed a wide circle around us, and there we faced off. Sure, it was training. But to the onlookers itching for a real brawl, that didn't matter. They were hyped, shouting their lungs out.
"Beat him, anybody!"
"Kill each other starting now!"
"Both of you just die fighting!"
Just thrilled by the chaos.
"Crush that cocky new punk!"
"Show him this ain't easy street!"
Lindel's supporters.
"New guy, win! Do it like last time!"
"Snap him in half!"
Those rooting for the underdog rebellion.
Stage. Fighters. Crowd. Cheers. The familiar rush swept over me. Heart pounding, mind sharpening. I deliberately slowed my breathing.
"Cocky bastard." Lindel growled.
"You think you can beat me at your level? There's a limit to underestimating... Catching Kael was just luck."
I ignored him. Let it slide off. This fight started emotional. But emotions had to be sidelined. Adrenaline dulled pain and unleashed power—but the crash left you sluggish, blind to strategy. I needed just the right buzz. Especially for my plan here. Rationality first.
I spun my loosely gripped sword, raised my shield. Lindel's armed with spear and shield. Reach disadvantage. Didn't matter. Disadvantage wasn't defeat.
Gawain dropped his raised gauntlet. The second it hit the ground, the crowd roared, and the duel began.
Richard crossed his arms and clicked his tongue. Tch.
Trial duel right out the gate. Not that he doubted Judah's skill. Morning drills showed sloppy form, but solid basics. Real combat was different, though.
Why's he gotta be so damn reckless? Weird kid. Acted on impulse one minute, ice-cold rational the next. Prematurely mature, too. Richard wasn't one to talk, but kids that grown-up too soon usually came from hellish homes. Made him want to look out for him more. Reminded him of the siblings back at the orphanage.
Day two, and the guy's stealing the show. Annoying? Nah. Hadn't done anything hate-worthy. Even shared cookies nobody'd ever dreamed of.
Lose or not, no biggie. Lindel's ace was Argon. Beat Argon, and Lindel'd bow too.
But... why do I feel like he won't lose?
Hard to say. Judah's duel skills weren't standout. Decent for a first-timer, matching Lindel. Clumsy distance control, flailing moves. Attacks and blocks missing power or overcommitting.
"Booo!"
The crowd jeered at the dull fight. Lindel started aggressive but hesitated when it didn't click.
"Fight hotter!"
"That ain't gonna kill him!"
Lindel even shrank from the boos. Judah, sloppy but unfazed, steadily honed his spacing. Richard couldn't help admiring it. Gawain, judging, felt the same.
Impressive focus.
He'd expected puppyish floundering from these kids. Allowed it anyway. Real fights diverged from drills—could end in injury from rash swings or just turn comical from green skills.
"Ugh, frustrating! I could do better!"
"Quit, both of ya!"
Sneers poured in. Elijah had enemies as a noble. Her guards might fight for her honor in such chaos. That's why he greenlit this.
Lindel charged wildly, spear thrusting raw with rage. Couldn't take the crowd's humiliation.
"Yeah! Harder! Crush him!"
The more they egged, the wilder he got.
"Newbie! Boring! Just surrender!"
Judah stayed cool. Deflected, blocked the spear. Took hits now and then. Watched for counters but held back. Wooden spear, shield, sword clashed with crude thuds. Childish scrap.
"Raaagh!"
Lindel bellowed, lunging. "Surrender! Give up!"
Screech—the spear grazed his shield and veered. Then—poke.
Sword tip to Lindel's chest. Judah'd pressed his blade to the shield's side and thrust into the charge. Perfect offense-defense blend. Tip stung and withdrew.
"Woooah!"
"Newbie! That's it! More! Ride the momentum!"
The arena shook. Lindel's face flushed redder, swept by the crowd. Judah? Ice calm. Lindel's boiled over.
"You little—!"
Momentum shifted. Judah blocked or parried, then quick jab and retreat. Lindel ate solid hits. Richard frowned. Crazy bastard...
Charging foe up close. Roaring crowd everywhere. That poise looked insane. His style was slow compared to Richard's, but perfect for his level. Gawain spotted the real shift first.
...Teaching?
Judah blocked solidly, countered textbook-style. Like a pro trainee. But the kicker: he was going easy. Could've ended it ages ago. Instead, schooling Lindel long and patient.
"You, bastard!"
Lindel sensed the mercy—but took it as mockery.
"How dare you! Dare toy with me!"
He stabbed wildly, voice scraping. Judah didn't block everything. Legs below shield range took hits. Lindel clocked it. Spear to the head—Judah raised shield, Lindel yanked low.
"Hup!"
Full power thrust. Sure to drop him cold. But...
"......"
Thud. Spear stabbed dirt. Judah dodged, stomped the shaft.
Crack... snap! It broke.
"Ah..."
Lindel's groan mixed with the crowd's "Waaah!"
Judah swung his shield like a fist. Caught Lindel flush in the face. He crumpled, clutching his nose. Judah stretched his neck. Plan worked.
Pretend legs are vulnerable, eat a few, counter the big wind-up. Nailed spacing after, executed flawless.
"How..."
Lindel muttered, denying reality. Gawain didn't stop it— he could still fight.
"Why..."
His dazed words drowned in cheers. Judah closed in blank-faced, bashed with shield. Lindel took it without resisting. Nosebleed streamed. Judah's gaze chilled him.
"Get up."
"...?"
"You surrendering after this?"
Even the rude informal didn't spark rebuttal.
"Grab your weapon and stand."
Crowd figured it mockery, cheered louder. Judah was dead serious. That gravity pissed Lindel off more. Looked down on like he was truly pathetic. The stare burned.
"What do you know!" Lindel spat, trembling. "What does a lucky spotlight hog like you know! Acting all high and mighty!"
"Booo," the crowd jeered.
Judah said nothing. Luck. Fluke. Words distant from his life. Here too? Dragged to this world unwillingly. But he knew its future. Undeniable fortune, hard to quantify.
Still, chalking his scars to luck felt unfair.
"Shut up and choose."
Nothing else to say. "Work hard" was pointless nagging. Effort didn't always pay off. Desperate tries could still betray you. Those who'd poured their souls in knew effort could be futile. He'd lived it.
So he didn't push effort on others or belittle theirs. Didn't want to.
Even now—without the system's Sword and Shield Arts, could he have won? Preaching effort then would be self-deception. Deceiving others? No, himself. Lies bred arrogance. Arrogance slid to complacency, sloth. He refused.
But one thing he wanted Lindel to grasp.
"Fight or surrender. Make it clear."
"......"
"Face reality straight. Embarrassed losing to a junior? Then quit now."
No "work harder" pep talk. No false hope effort conquers all. But he could say: don't freeze up.
Fleeing choices versus choosing to flee. Worlds apart.
"Mad? Want to win? Then do it. Swing that broken shaft, charge with fists, headbutt me."
"......"
"Stay down, achieve nothing. Whatever you do, commit. No half-assing."
The roaring crowd hushed. The small boy's voice gripped them. Simple, cliché advice. Overfamiliar, ignored wisdom. Humans dulled to the known. Truths faded.
"......"
Lindel staggered up. Gripped the broken spear. Jagged end nastier now—but he flipped it. Not to maim. To win.
Judah's face stayed serene. Lindel's rage cooled to calm. No words. Just charged again.
Crowd erupted hotter.
"Winner: Judah."
Gawain declared.
"Waaaah!"
"Judah! Judah! Judah!"
The crowd chanted my name. Easy win. I'd held back from the start.
Not looking down on Lindel. Just wanted to teach the immature kid a lesson. Dodging reality, blaming others—echoed someone from my own childish days. That's all.
"Hah... hah..."
Lindel sprawled, heaving. Face bloodied from my hits. Felt kinda bad watching.
Did I go too hard at the end?
I approached, offered a hand.
"I win."
He stared at it long, then chuckled bitterly.
"...Yeah."
Finally took it, stood. Squeezed harder.
"Acknowledge reality, right."
"Yes."
"...Yeah. Got it. I get what you mean."
That was it. Gawain called out.
"Judah. Satisfied?"
I watched Lindel retreat into the crowd. Steps weak, stumbling. Now he just had to endure solo.
"Yes."
"Freaky kid..."
"Pardon?"
"Nothing. Next. Richard, Argon."
The deflated crowd reignited. Richard burst forward like he'd waited forever.
"Argon! Get out here, punk!"
"Shut up already..."
Argon sauntered out with sword and shield. Richard gripped just a massive two-hander. Veteran fifth-intakers' grudge match. Heat palpable.
"Begin."
Gawain raised his gauntlet. Then the alert hit.
‘Yesterday's Enemy is Today's Ally’ in progress….
...In progress?
My confusion ignored, the gauntlet dropped. Thud. Richard charged the instant it hit.