Chapter 9: A Change in Temperament

Castor and Brin barely arrived in time for the fight.

Conrad and party had already been present for over half an hour by the time they appeared, and the blond cadet was already limbered up. Arriving early, as Liam had suggested, had been the correct choice. Conrad had been able to spend his time wisely, warming up and calming down, so when the two larger men appeared at the entrance to the building, he did not feel even a little bit of nervousness.

The Crown Prince was also already present, sitting in the highest viewing box especially meant for royals. In order to have them act as referees for the fight, Aleron and Azela were both standing below the box, as close as they could get to the arena without actually being inside.

Astra and her accompanying friends from the Castle Guard, were all seated to one side. Jeorge’s connections had netted them seats with an unobscured view of the arena.

The two Raven Knights entered the ring where Conrad was lightly moving about to keep his muscles from settling. Azela instructed them to place their weapons on the nearby table for inspection, and the two obeyed. Brin unbuckled a huge, double-handed claymore from his back and tossed it onto the table, making the wood frame shake with the weight, and Castor unsheathed his broadsword from his waist and laid it down, sneering at little when he saw the shortsword that Conrad had already deposited. Compared to the two knights’ showy, long blades, the shortsword was comparable to a dagger and looked sadly inadequate.

The last of the spectators streamed in and were also soon seated, and the Crown Prince rose from his seat and welcomed them, as the official sponsor of the event. Jeorge, acting as the Nova family’s representative, also greeted everyone and reminded them to remain seated for their own safety during the fight.

“Sir Brin, Sir Castor, as young Conrad is the challenger...” The prince fixed his eyes on the two knights, who had gone so far as to wear their specialized purple armour today, something that he personally did not like. He did not want these two buffoons acting out while wearing the symbol of his Knights. “You have the right to decide who shall fight first. For the sake of fairness, I must ask that you remove your armour.”

Castor objected to the request, but the crowd was against him. Conrad was wearing the simplest of leather guards despite the fact that this fight would be with real weapons. In the interest of fairness, and a potentially more interesting fight, the spectators were eager to see the two Knights stripped of their advantage.

With no choice left to them, Brin and Castor removed their showy mail and placed it to one side. Replacement armour, of the same basic leather that Conrad sported, was brought to them instead, and they two men reluctantly strapped them on. 

“Who shall be fighting first?” the prince asked again.

Castor made a show of pursing his lips and thinking it over, but he had already made the decision some time ago.

Brin was more brawn than brains, a man of horrifying strength but little in the way of strategy. Castor, however, was a shrewd, calculating sort. He was certain that Conrad, although impulsive, would have done his best to prepare for the fight. In seeking the highest level of humiliation as well as the most dramatically crushing victory, Castor had done his fair share of planning.

But then again, so had Astra.

The noirette, in her seat, squeezed her hands together as she watched the two Raven Knights, silently willing the words out of Castor’s mouth.

Brin. Say it’s Brin.

“Brin will fight first,” Castor said, sweeping the royal a polite bow.

Astra bit her tongue to keep her satisfied smile from showing as she sat back against her seat, pretending to be disappointed. Next to her, Ilia patted her back, as if in comfort, but the older woman’s eyes were shining. Leaning over, she put her lips near Astra’s ear to whisper.

“It’s all going according to plan, isn’t it?”

Astra’s expression remained unobtrusive, but she nodded. “Brin is the easier of the two to beat. Castor’s the one with smarts. Since Conrad only has to win one fight, it’s best that he fight Brin first, to ensure that he wins the bet.”

And to allow him to toy with Castor even more, when the second fight came.

Azela and Aleron, who had finished looking over the weapons, nodded and stepped back, gesturing for the challengers to retrieve their belongings. Brin stepped forwards first and picked up his weapon. The large sword was so heavy it required two hands for even the burly knight to wield. He walked into the center of the ring as Conrad collected his own weapon – the shortsword that his mentors had specially commissioned for him – and moved to the opposite side of the circle. Meanwhile, Castor obediently backed away from the fight and went to stand with Aleron and Azela.

He didn’t bother to hide his sneer as he watched the small blond check over his blade. This puny kid actually wanted to go up against Brin’s monster-like strength with nothing but a toothpick? He was asking for death. Just from looking at his skinny arms, it was clear that Conrad did not have the ability to block Brin’s attacks head-on.

The Crown Prince said a few more words to the fighters, warning them not to go overboard if the opponent yielded, swore that he would fairly preside over the results, and then commenced the fight.

Brin picked up his heavy blade and circled around Conrad a few times, who didn’t move, except to follow the man’s movements with his eyes. When he got behind the blond, the Raven Knight roared and charged, lifting his sword over his head, intending to cleave Conrad to the waist with a single mighty blow.

Meanwhile, the crowd began to shout. Some were warning Conrad of the oncoming attack, some were booing the overkill of the initial blow, which would make the fight so short it was sure to be boring, and some were just screaming at the tension of it all.

The burst of noise further galvanized Brin into action. Putting all of his weight into it, he swung, eagerly anticipating the moment when the blond would be cleaved in two.

However, when the blade finally completed its arc and struck down, Conrad was no longer where he had once been standing.

The youth pivoted lightly on one foot, slipping to the side, and avoided the sweeping sword by the space of a few inches. As it cleaved past him, he lifted his other leg and kicked up and out, directly at Brin’s elbow.

The Raven Knight nearly dropped his sword when the blow forced his arm to buckle, and he hurriedly pulled the blade from the dirt and reversed his swing, aiming to sever the blonde’s legs.

But Conrad pushed off on the balls of his feet and jumped back, stopping just out of reach of the giant sword. The blade passed harmlessly by, the wind of its passage ruffling the tips of his gold hair.

Brin stopped and hastily fell back a step, his expression betraying his confusion. Conrad, who had yet to even draw his sword, just tilted his head at the larger man and raised a brow, looking very calm. 

Liam stuffed his arm into his own mouth to stifle his laughter, making Ilia reach over to cuff him on the head, sharply reminding him not to ruin the act.

“You’ll waste Astra’s hard work,” she muttered, and the redhead, still struggling to maintain his calm, managed to school his expression.

Astra’s gaze was full of pride as she looked at her pupil. “That’s it,” she encouraged, softly enough that only those beside her could hear. “Give him a good run around to start.”

‘Run around’ was an apt way to phrase it. Brin was certainly ill-matched against Conrad’s light movements. He might have fared better had he stayed where he was and tried to feint, but the man was not one for tactics. His fighting style had always been to overpower his opponents with undisputed strength, wielding his giant sword tirelessly until their spirits were crushed (and their skulls with it, most of the time). He continued to charge the youth with big, long swings. Each time, Conrad would shift just out of range, dodging every blow by a narrow margin. The audience had originally screamed each time the cadet seemed to brush past death, but as the fight went on and Conrad continued to dodge unscathed, they soon grew impressed and restless in equal measure.

The younger man’s dodging ability was certainly something to behold, but the lack of actual combat was boring them. Conlrad had yet to use the shortsword he held, and was avoiding Brin’s strokes by footwork alone. Of course, he was still in an extremely dangerous situation. Brin was now attacking without any sort of restraint – if Conrad made even one mistake, if he moved just a moment too late, he would lose a limb or his life.

“Stop running away, you little rat!” Brin boomed in frustration after this dance had gone on for some time. However, Conrad, who had yet to say a word for the entirety of the fight, suddenly let out a condescending laugh. There was a look of disappointment on his face, as if he had expected better from the other man. He seemed so genuinely let down that for a moment, the onlookers were confused.

Then, he spoke.

“This is what I was so afraid of?”

Brin froze.

The tone, the look of ridicule and slight exasperation, were familiar somehow. For a moment, he saw a different face in his mind, that of a dark-haired girl in a green gown, with that same expression.

This is a Raven Knight?

That’s right. He had heard something very similar that day.

“Pfft –”

Liam actually had to turn aside and bury his face in Rain’s shoulder this time, shoulders shaking, in order to muffle his laughter. The healer grumbled at the invasion of his personal space, swatting the redhead away, but the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

Ilia tapped Astra’s shoulder and inquired mildly, “Say, why does he sound exactly like you?”

“Probably because I wrote him an entire list of one-liners to use for today,” was the equally casual reply. “He’s just getting warmed up. Don’t worry, I scripted enough insults to satisfy even you, Liam.”

The redhead choked and covered his face with both hands, faint laughter leaking out from between his fingers. “Little lady, have I ever mentioned that you are a treasure?”

“No, but I know without you telling me.” Astra’s smug reply made even Rain chuckle, but an angry roar from Brin made them turn their attention back to the fight. “This is only the first step, so don’t get too excited.”

In the ring, Brin was swinging away with more vigor than ever. To Astra, his unchecked, exaggerated movements looked like he was wielding a baseball bat, rather than a sword. Conrad, growing tired of just dodging, finally drew his weapon, to the audience’s supporting cheers. At last, the real fight was going to begin!

“Decided to stop running away?” Brin sneered as he stepped back to adjust his grip on his sword. Sweat glistened on his brow, evidence of the literal clout his weighty weapon possessed. “Are you planning on going up against me with that twig?”

Again, the blond assumed an innocent, baffled air as he tilted his head the other way to size up the sword in his hand, then his opponent. “Is there something wrong with it?” he replied, confused. “I think it’s more than enough for the likes of you.”

“What did you just say?” Brin’s brows lowered, his voice dropping several levels.

The blond just grinned at him, all sunny innocence, and flicked his blade up and out in a smooth, showy maneuver, raising his voice a little. “I said that someone who’s empty between the ears can’t possibly pose much of a challenge, didn’t you hear me? Or are you going deaf in your old age?” Following this, he put on a concerned, anxious expression. “Sure you’re not going to keel over from joint pain anytime soon?”

He really seemed like he was worried, the little devil. The audience began to laugh, and the burly knight saw red as he lowered his blade and charged with an angry shout, aiming to jam the point of his sword into Conrad’s chest. The youth stood his ground, his weapon arcing upwards with just enough force, and he flicked the oncoming attack to one side almost contemptuously. Brin, with too much forward momentum, stumbled past the youth as Conrad stepped behind him and aimed a sharp kick at the back of his knee.

The knight felt his leg involuntarily buckle, and hurriedly planted his greatsword in the dirt to keep from kneeling. To fall in such a manner on the battlefield would be too humiliating. He dimly heard the audience laugh at his clumsy, even comical maneuver, and felt shame and fury rise in his chest.

This little imp was actually toying with him!

In truth, Conrad could have ended the fight the second he got behind the larger man, but he’d chosen not to, instead throwing a kick that was little more than an annoyance.

“Oh, dear,” he intoned, with a lighthearted air that only served to make the Raven Knight even angrier. Conrad bent over him, a picture of concern as he inquired, “Are your creaky knees getting to you, old man? Perhaps you should surrender, and I’ll run and fetch your cane for you.”

“Don’t listen to him, Brin!” Castor snapped from the sidelines.

Conrad’s ability to adapt had caught him by surprise. No matter how hard Conrad trained, there was no way he could physically match up against Brin or himself, so he had expected this match to go quickly. But he hadn’t predicted the young soldier picking up on Brin’s short temper and choosing to goad the older man beyond reason. In his memory, Conrad’s temperament was far more timid. He was much more likely to take a punch for someone than to goad someone into punching him, and he’d lacked a tongue sharp enough to cut butter, let alone someone’s pride. Where had this newfound attitude come from?

The source of said attitude was currently leaned back in her chair, legs crossed, with an expression of barely concealed pride at Conrad’s beautiful performance.

“He really does sound exactly like you when he talks that way,” Liam whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up,” Astra muttered back, seeing the redhead’s grin in her peripheral.

What was the number one thing to annoy those with high pride?

It was when the one doing the annoying was mouthy, powerless, or lower in status.

And the current Conrad was masterfully fulfilling all three of these requirements.