Eric was four years younger than Clarsen.
Even before they t, Eric had already made a na for himself. People saw him as a rising star, full of promise. But Clarsen—General of the Royal Order—saw sothing no one else did.
Eric didn’t know how to fight properly.
He had no real stance. His technique was sloppy. What he did have was an overwhelming amount of mana. It was enough to cover up his flaws... for a while. But Clarsen knew the truth: one day, Eric would face enemies just as powerful in magic, only they’d be seasoned warriors, not inexperienced boys relying on raw power.
So Clarsen challenged him to a mock battle.
He crushed Eric, breaking him down completely, from top to bottom. No magic, just skill. And without his spells, Eric couldn’t even beat soone who wasn’t a real fighter. That day, he learned how unprepared he truly was.
And that was the beginning.
For two long, painful years, Clarsen trained him, taught him how to survive, how to move, how to fight with a blade and with bare hands. They bled, they argued, they laughed. Sowhere along the way, they beca friends.
But years later, those sa friends beca bitter enemies.
They had once protected each other. Now, they would rather kill each other.
But all of that belonged to the past.
Now, Clarsen—reborn, changed—stood once more before the Hero.
They were the sa height. Sa build. Both held wooden swords in their hands. A harmless duel, the adults had said. Safer this way.
The crowd fell silent.
For the first ti, Arthur’s mother and brother would be watching him fight. Usually, he sparred with his father deep in the forest, where no one could see Aston lose control and fight like a real warrior.
But not today.
Today, Arthur was in the open. No forest. No shadows. Just him, his opponent, and the people who mattered most.
There was no way he was going to let himself look weak—not here, not now.
"Ready?"
The voice ca from the butler—Charles, if Arthur rembered right—standing off to the side, acting as the referee.
Arthur and Eric gave quiet nods.
Charles raised his hand, then stepped back.
"Begin!"
Eric moved first.
In an instant, mana burst from his body, wrapping around him like a second skin. With every step, his speed grew faster, faster than the eye could follow.
Kevin’s jaw dropped as Eric blurred across the field. Forty ters vanished beneath his feet in less than a second, leaving a golden trail shimring in his wake.
He appeared before Arthur in a flash—his wooden sword aid straight for Arthur’s chest.
SWIP!
The blade stabbed forward—
—but hit nothing.
Eric’s eyes widened. Arthur was no longer there.
Before he could react, a firm hand clamped around his wrist.
Then—
THUD!
A sharp kick struck Eric’s heel, throwing off his balance. At the sa ti, Arthur yanked his arm forward and twisted, sending the Hero crashing to the ground in a blur of movent.
DHAK!
The sound echoed across the training grounds.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The ladies covered their mouths in shock.
The n leaned forward, eyes locked on the scene.
Arthur stood over Eric—calm, steady, not even out of breath—while Eric blinked up at the sky, stunned.
The match had just begun, and already, Arthur had made his move.
Arthur let out a small sigh, clearly unimpressed.
"Don’t rely only on your speed," he said flatly. "Watch your opponent."
Eric nodded, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. He pushed himself up, gripping his wooden sword tightly with both hands. The ground still stung from the fall, but he shook it off.
Arthur, in contrast, looked completely relaxed—too relaxed. He wasn’t even in a fighting stance.
But Eric wasn’t fooled.
’He’s on guard... every angle I can see is covered,’ Eric thought, scanning Arthur carefully. His opponent stood still, but there were no openings. None that were real, anyway.
Eric clenched his teeth. His mind raced, weighing options.
Then—
"Here I co," he muttered under his breath.
He lunged forward, slashing from the side in a wide horizontal arc.
Whoosh!
Arthur’s body shifted, just slightly—a simple tilt—and the strike cut through empty air once again.
Eric spun into a low upward swing—Arthur stepped aside.
Then a downward strike, faster this ti—Arthur shifted his weight and sidestepped, letting it fall beside him.
Eric growled, gripping tighter.
Mana surged through his arms and legs, pouring into each movent. His speed spiked. His blows ca faster, harder.
Left. Right. Diagonal. Thrust. Spin. Smash.
He beca a blur of motion. Each swing is sharper than the last. Each strike ant to end it.
The wind howled around him with the force of his attacks.
But Arthur didn’t move much. He didn’t have to.
A step back. Lean to the side. A half-turn. A pivot.
Effortless. Clean. Calm.
Not only Kevin but Gustav and the first prince as well had a look of disbelief, seeing the two ten-year-olds fighting.
By no ans were those attacks from Eric weak or predictable, but Arthur was dodging them as if he had been told what Eric would do in the next second.
Eric gritted his teeth and decided to make so space.
He used one of the spells, ’Blinding radiance!’ And instantly, the whole arena was filled with extre whiteness.
The audience had to cover their eyes because the spell instantly covered the whole arena.
Eric could see through the brightness and saw the opportunity,
Arthur’s eyes were closed. This was the right ti.
’Sorry, but I want to win this!’ He advanced forward, his blade held close to his collar and aid at Arthur’s chest.
Step by step, Eric believed he had won this—but just as the tip of the blade reached Arthur’s chest, he realized sothing crucial.
Arthur doesn’t need to see him to defeat him.
*SLAM*
Arthur trapped the blade between his palms and pulled it away from the prince.
Eric was too shocked to notice the kick coming in.
And when the illumination cleared, everyone saw the prince flying.
The battle concluded with an easy victory for Arthur.
******
A/N:- He took Tinker’s help near the end.
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