Chapter 48 - Outcome of the Preliminaries (3)

“Your defeat,” I replied, forcefully breaking his stance for the first time as I became the attacker and he the defender.

“Impossible,” he said, his voice straining under the pressure of my swing, “your strength is comparable to that of a master, perhaps even stronger than my commander.”

It was close. I could finally feel his last defenses stripping away, as my longsword pushed against his weapon for dominance.

Suddenly, the Silver Knight retreated backward, instantly creating a distance between us that would put him out of my reach. He shot an intense gaze, a mix of emotions which met my own calm, green eyes.

In a dramatic gesture, he slowly lifted his sword upward before finally bringing it back downward, the point of it touching the smooth stone. Then he turned his head to the side and shouted in a voice loud enough to reach the six grandmasters impassively watching the fight. “I concede defeat. He is my better.”

The Silver Knight turned toward me, the intense gaze still in his silver eyes. His small mouth curled into a tiny smile. “Perhaps we can spar with our weapons again, oh wanderer known as Verath. I expect a private, much more private location for our spar though, that is, if you agree.”

The knight in polished, silver armor then gave me a small wink and in long exaggerated movements attracting attention to his silver-blond long hair and to his slim posterior, gracefully flounced off of the stone platform, before finally going back into the waiting room in a normal gait.

I was a little surprised at what had just happened and how quickly it had happened. I also felt a little intrigued by his invitation, but mostly, I felt a sense of danger. I would definitely not be accepting his invitation.

And I almost didn't notice the announcer proclaiming my victory over my opponent amidst the cheering of the crowds, whose expectations of the winner had been overturned.

And perhaps I even felt a chill run down my spines. And perhaps even ghostly hands clutching at my privates.

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The words which the Silver Knight had said to me finally registered in my mind as I sat down in the waiting room, waiting for my next match. I asked a friendly looking guard some questions and obtained some relevant information of a surprising nature.

It seemed that the tournament hosted by Baron Serle only allowed aspiring knights and other fighting men. Strangers or travelers were also welcomed if they passed the test by the grandmasters, but most of them did not pass it.

Combined with the words the Silver Knight had said to me, it seemed as if knight commanders and people holding greater military positions were not allowed to participate in the tournament. It was done so in order to give the younger knights a chance to win.

These were some interesting revelations. I did know, in my past human life, that there were greater military positions than knights in Shail Kingdom, but I had never witnessed feats of their strength firsthand, only by telltales and rumors. This led me to believe that were warriors and knights who were more powerful than the Silver Knight I had faced. And he was a favorite also, to add.

I was snapped out of my musings by a guard. “Your second match will be up next, Verath!” the guard shouted.

By my calculations and since it was now time for my second match, I knew that there were only fifteen fighters left, excluding me. This meant that I only had four matches left to win before I was crowned champion of the tournament.

The familiar, amplified voice of the announcer came bursting through into the waiting room.

“Our final match, lords, ladies, and gentlemen, shall be the unknown wanderer, Verath, against another unknown man who styles himself as Prince. These two have quickly established themselves as the dark horses of the tournament, beating two of the favorites to win!”

Hearing my cue to enter the arena, I quickly went through the waiting room door. I went to stand up on the smooth stone platform and waited patiently for my opponent, who had just exited his side's waiting room.

Slim. Much slimmer than my first opponent, the Silver Knight, had been. That was my first thought upon seeing him.

With medium-length hair that blazed like fire and cascaded down to the sides of his small shoulders, Prince wore a slim full helmet, with the top ending in a jagged crown. The only openings on the helmet were the two slits for the eyes and the thin lines of slit at the lower area where the mouth and nose would be. In all, the white helmet made a sharp contrast to his scarlet armor, which tightly hugged to his body and was deliberately cut short at the arms to allow a wider range of motions.

In his gloved hands were twin short swords. The swords were fashioned with a wide base, thinning out to form a cruel, thin curve; the shape of the weapons left me no doubt that they were tools used for slashing, that they were for hacking off limbs and heads.

The scarlet armor clad warrior climbed to his side of the platform, ignoring everything else, his sole attention focused upon me. The slits for the eyes of his helmet were so thin that I could not even make out the color of his eyes. It made me wondered whether he could even see out of them.

“Let the match begin,” the announcer cried out, already removing himself from the platform.

My opponent did not even pause to inspect me before he came running at me, his twin curved swords held ready at his sides. When he came within reach of me, Prince jumped, shooting forth almost ten feet into the air, before twirling back down at me, a sword slash aimed at my head.

There was no hesitation as he tried to land a killing blow even though it would be against the rule of the tournament.

Very well, I thought, two can play at that game.

Knowing that my opponent was no ordinary fighter, I used the same amount of strength that I had used last match to deflect his downward slash on the side of my blade. My longsword connected with his curved short sword, steel ringing against steel.

The strength of my deflection held his light body up in the air for a short instant and in that amount of time, the scarlet warrior twirled a little toward his right side and swung his other sword downward to the side of my head.

The flexibility of his body was almost inhumane, his slim, lightly clothed arms like snakes striking at its prey.

If his other sword swing was connected, I knew that I would no longer have a head remaining. That is, if I was a normal human, but right now, I was suppose to be a normal human so it would be a very bad idea if the grandmasters found out that a weapon could not cut through my neck.

I pushed his curved sword back, overpowering him, the recoil causing him to fly backward into the air a short distance. But the scarlet warrior landed gracefully with a back-flip, not even the slightest bit unbalanced.

I could feel his gaze from the helmet even though I could barely make out his eyes. He adopted a cautious stance, slowly shuffling toward me, one step by one step. Then we traded blows, my longsword meeting his short curved swords, which came at me from a variety of directions I would have thought was impossible to be done. There were a few times I even needed to retreat backward for fear of being cut unexpectedly by his simultaneous slashes.

We were both trapped in our own bubble of time as we traded blows, a repetition of acrobatics and formless swings from him, while I stopped them with cold efficiency. My life was not in danger, so I did not feel the cold anger come over me, putting me into a state of focus.

This repetition of blows went on and on, the scarlet warrior never tiring even after jumping around and around me like a wild, graceful animal. His attacks were fierce and came from blind spots. Were I a normal human warrior, I would have been long dead from the fierceness and the suddenness of his attacks.

I felt a change come over his demeanor as he retreated once more after a useless attempt at dismembering me. Then he sprinted at me, fast and formless like the wind.

He swung a sword toward my side and as I blocked it with my own longsword, another swing with his free weapon followed. It was aimed at my other side.

I was in a troublesome situation, my weapon still engaged with one of his twin curved swords. I moved closer into his space, my free hand grabbing his slim forearm, and stopping his swing midway. I had moved faster than he could attack me. He had made the mistake of engaging me fro too long and our fight was getting tedious.

We were at a standstill, our faces close to each other. We were both about the same height, with me just a little taller. Through the slits of his helmet, I could make out two violet eyes peering at me from the holes. They were unfazed, not even the slightest bit shocked by the display of my speed.