"Alright," Jas said, wooden sword in hand. "Your turn. Let’s see what you’ve got."
Ryan picked up his own practice blade. "You know, you say that every ti. And every ti, I get my ass kicked."
"Exactly. Tradition." Jas grinned. "Now stop complaining—" Jas waved for Ryan to co at him. "—And fight ."
They squared off in the center of the arena.
Jas didn’t give him ti to think. He lunged forward, sword coming in fast.
Ryan blocked—barely. The impact rattled up his arms.
"Good!" Jas called out. "Now hit back before I hit you again."
"I’m trying—"
Jas struck again. Ryan blocked, stumbled slightly, then swung wild.
Jas sidestepped. "That wasn’t a swing, that was a prayer."
"It almost hit you!"
"Almost doesn’t count." Jas tapped Ryan’s shoulder with the flat of his blade. "Dead. Again."
Ryan groaned. "How are you this annoying and this good at fighting?"
"Natural talent." Jas reset his stance. "Co on. Again. And this ti, don’t swing like you’re swatting a fly."
They went at it again. Ryan managed a few decent blocks, even got close to landing a hit once. But Jas was always a step ahead, always reading his moves before he made them.
Still, Ryan could feel so improvent. His footwork was steadier. He wasn’t completely lost anymore.
Jas feinted left, then struck right. Ryan actually read it this ti and blocked cleanly.
"There we go!" Jas’s face lit up. "You’re not hopeless after all."
"High praise," Ryan said dryly.
"I’m being generous." Jas circled him. "Most people I’d just call hopeless and leave it at that."
From the sidelines, Jared called out. "You know, Ryan, if you stopped talking and started moving, you might actually land a hit."
"I’m multitasking!"
"You’re losing," Jared corrected.
Ryan lunged forward, attempting a quick thrust. Jas deflected it, spun, and tapped Ryan’s back.
"Dead. Again."
Ryan turned, breathing hard. "One day—I’m going to be fed up of this—and I’ll throw a light spell in your face."
"Sure you will." Jas clapped him on the shoulder. "And it’ll have zero impact because I’ll be a tier 6 Knight."
Slow, deliberate clapping echoed across the arena.
All three of them turned.
Navius stood at the entrance, hands coming together in mocking applause. Two other students flanked him—both older and both wearing clothing that could only be of Nobles.
"How touching," Navius said, voice dripping with condescension. "The charity case is learning to hold a sword. How long until he stops embarrassing himself, do you think?"
Jas’s expression darkened. "Navius. What do you want?"
"I was just passing by." Navius strolled into the arena, eyes sweeping over them with obvious disdain. "Heard the pathetic clanging of wood and thought I’d see what all the noise was about." His gaze settled on Ryan. "And here you are. The academy’s newest... rat."
Ryan’s grip tightened on his sword. "I’m just training, what’s your problem?"
"Training." Navius smiled. "Is that what we’re calling it? From where I stood, it looked more like a toddler learning to walk."
"He started training to be a Knight two days ago," Jared said flatly.
"And the Academy allowed him in?" Navius’s smile faded. "Standards really have dropped, haven’t they?"
He studied Ryan more closely. "And he’s also already sparring? The instructors must be desperate for entertainnt."
Jas stepped forward. "You going to train, Navius? Or are you just here to hear yourself talk?"
"Oh, I have plenty to say, kid." Navius’s tone was dismissive, like he was addressing a child. "But watching you three pretend to be warriors is more entertaining."
"Just leave," Jas said. "No one invited you."
"This is a public arena. I have as much right to be here as you do." Navius tilted his head. "Unless you’d like to make leave?"
The challenge hung in the air.
Jas’s jaw tightened. "Fine. You want a real fight? Let’s go."
Navius laughed. "You? Against ?" He shook his head, genuinely amused. "That’s adorable."
"Scared?" Jas shot back.
"Of a kid who can barely—" Navius stopped, smile vanishing. His expression turned cold. "Very well. If you insist on humiliating yourself, I’ll oblige."
He gestured to one of his companions, who tossed him a wooden practice sword.
Navius caught it easily, testing the weight. "Try not to cry when you lose, kid."
Jas’s face flushed with anger. "Just fight."
Jared leaned toward Ryan, voice low. "This isn’t going to end well."
"For who?" Ryan whispered back.
"Navius, of course. I saw him sparring in our sessions. He’s good, but he’s no where near Jas’ level."
"Ready?" Jas said.
"Yes!" Navius said as he thrusted in for a surprise attack.
Jas stepped back, and hand parried Navius’ sword away. Jas quickly followed it up by slamming his sword toward Navius’ neck.
Navius ducked, the sword grazing the top of his head.
Jas wasn’t holding back. Navius was in a weak spot, and Jas wasn’t about to give him ti to reposition.
Jas pressed the advantage, sword coming down hard.
Navius blocked, but the impact forced him back a step. Then another.
"Not so confident now?" Jas said, striking again.
Navius parried, but he was barely keeping up.
Jas feinted high, then went for Navius’s legs.
Navius jumped back.
"You’re all talk," Jas said, advancing. "Just like I thought."
Ryan, smiling, looked over to Navius’ two companions, who were growing more and more eager to leave.
Navius’s face was red now. But not from exertion.
He swung wildly. Jas sidestepped, let the montum carry Navius past him, then struck his exposed hip.
"Dead," Jas said. "That’s three openings you’ve given ."
Navius spun around, breathing hard. "Shut up."
"Make , kid," Jas shot back, throwing Navius’s own words at him.
The two nobles watching from the sidelines shifted uncomfortably. One of them called out, "Navius, maybe we should—"
"I said shut up!" Navius snarled.
He attacked again. Desperate now.
Jas blocked easily, countered, and slamd his wooden blade into Navius’s ribs.
Navius staggered. Dropped to one knee.
"Stay down," Jas said. "It’s over."
For a mont, Navius stayed there, head bowed, chest heaving.
Then Ryan saw it.
Navius’s free hand—the one not holding his sword—was moving. His palm now facing Jas.
"Jas—" Ryan started.
Too late.
"Ignis Pila!"
A ball of fla erupted from Navius’s palm.
Jas tried to dodge, but he hadn’t expected such a despicable move. The flas caught his hand—the one gripping his sword.
He scread.
The wooden blade clattered to the ground as Jas jerked his hand back, clutching it against his chest.
Navius stood, breathing hard, fire still flickering around his fingers.
"You should’ve stayed down, kid," he said coldly.
Jared was already moving, running toward Jas. Ryan followed.
Jas’s hand was red. Blistered. The skin already starting to swell.
"You used magic!" Jared shouted at Navius. "In a sparring match! Are you insane?"
Navius lowered his hand. The flas died. "He wanted a real fight. I gave him one."
"This was supposed to be swords only!" Ryan said, anger rising. He raised his practice sword.
"I never agreed to that." Navius’s expression was calm now. "He challenged . I accepted. What I use is my choice."
Jas gritted his teeth, still cradling his burned hand. "You—"
"I what?" Navius stepped closer. "Taught you a lesson? Showed you what happens when you challenge your betters?" He sneered. "You should be grateful. I could’ve done much worse."
"Navius," one of his companions said quietly. "We should go. Before an instructor—"
"Before an instructor what?" Navius said, not looking away from Jas. "I defended myself in a fair challenge. If he’s upset about losing, that’s his problem."
Navius turned and walked to the exit, his two companions following.
At the entrance, he paused and looked back.
"Next ti, kid, know your place."
Then he was gone.
Ryan knelt beside Jas. "Let see."
Jas reluctantly held out his hand. The burn covered his palm and fingers, already forming blisters.
"It wasn’t a strong spell," Jared said. "But we need to get you to an infirmary."
Jas slowly nodded.
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