Chương 111: [Playing The Villain]

Phil walked out of the left tunnel.

"He looks relaxed," Leo said.

"Good," Shai said.

"Means he's taking his own advice." She nodded toward the opposite tunnel.

"Her name's Sasha. From Stonehall, fights with dual swords like me. She's quick, likes to move a lot. She beats people by frustrating them into mistakes."

"So she'll try to dance around him."

"Yeah, I don't know if that'll work on Phil, though." Phil found the centre of the floor, looked up at the galleries once, then at Sasha. He said something Leo couldn't make out and noticed Sasha laugh.

"Yeah, he seems fine. Look at him—he's about to fight her and he's trying to put the moves on her." Leo laughed.

"Dude thinks he's slick." Shai chuckled.

"I wonder how long before she realizes he's probably trying to get her to lower her guard."

"Oh, damn. Yeah, you're probably right. I didn't even think of that. Sly bastard." She laughed at Leo's realization. Grimgar raised his hand and, moments later, the fight began. Sasha came out already moving, dual swords loose at her sides, footwork that said she was used to making opponents chase her. Leo could see it immediately; she was quick and moved in unpredictable patterns. It reminded him of those clips of people falling over trying to play against someone skilled in one-on-ones in basketball.

Phil went after her anyway. Not recklessly, but without hesitation, closing the space every time she tried to create it, his own swords moving to keep her busy while his feet kept coming. Sasha adjusted, trying to bait him into making a mistake. He didn't bite.

"She's trying to frustrate him into a mistake, into focusing on where she goes next and not on her swords," Leo said.

"It won't work," Shai said.

"Watch his left hand." The first chance she got, Sasha drove a stab at Phil's right side. He'd left it open, but Leo only really noticed because Shai's advice had left him looking for it. At the fast pace both were moving, he could see why it would look like a genuine mistake. It was a trap. His left sword came down and swept the stab aside in the same motion his right drove forward.

She got her own blade across to meet it, but the timing was wrong—a fraction late—and the red mark appeared on her shoulder before she'd finished the parry. One. They reset before she came at him again, swords up this time, matching his pace instead of trying to outmaneuver him. Their blades met in the middle. Phil drove forward through the clash and forced her swords back harder than she'd expected. She held, reset, came again. Same result.

She was fast enough to meet him, but each time they clashed she gave ground, the exchanges wearing away at her positioning. On the fourth, Phil used less force, causing her to overextend. In the split second she was off balance, Phil pounced. His right blade stabbed inward, leaving a red mark on her side beneath her arm. Two.

"He looks good," Leo said.

"It's a shame Locke won't face him. Those two would've been something to watch. They kind of have a similar fighting style." Shai glanced at him with a slight smirk.

"You sound like Phil." Leo grimaced, which made her smirk turn into a laugh.

"You're so sure you'll beat Locke that it didn't even occur to you he might be the one facing Phil instead." Leo rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah. You're right. Just came out." He laughed.

"Didn't even think about it." She grinned and shook her head. Below them, the fighters reset. Leo watched for a moment, then let his arm settle around her shoulder. She shifted slightly and leaned in.

Kai had been watching the fight from further along the step when he saw it. The way she leaned in without looking up, without any of the careful awareness she carried around most people. Natural. That confirms it then. He looked away. The instinct was there—immediate, protective, old—and he knew it for what it was. Stupid. Leo had done nothing wrong. Had done everything right, if anything. He looked back at the arena. He was happy for her. That was the right feeling. He looked up at the sky and smiled.

Some of the fighters along the step had also noticed. A glance between Leo and Shai, then away. Rumours would spread, be on everyone's lips before the day was out. Below them, Phil had pushed Sasha toward the far edge, each exchange taking another step from her. She moved left and he cut the angle off. She went right and he lunged—the low wall behind her killed the retreat. She got her blade across and managed to deflect his strike down, but the force of the lunge went through it, the blow landing on her thigh.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Three. The ref stepped in. Both fighters walked to the centre and clasped arms. Sasha went back to her tunnel.

"Was she smiling?" Leo asked.

"Looked like it." Phil looked at the crowd, a huge grin on his face. He started a slow circle in the centre of the arena, both swords raised out and up, a roar leaving his lips. The crowd roared back.

"That idiot can't help himself," Leo said.

"Good tactics," Shai said.

"Get the crowd on his side now, they'll be cheering for him through the semis."

"Oh god. I know what this is..." He looked at Shai.

"Is Klaus... well, is he popular in Stonehall?"

"As far as I know. He has a few fans. Why?"

"Let's say I beat Locke later. Then I go on to beat Klaus, a local favorite. I'm going to be the bad guy against that idiot down there." Shai thought about it, then broke out laughing.

"I think you're right. Can you imagine? Phil, the guy going round telling everyone he's the best, he's going to make the tournament look easy... is somehow seen as a saint by the crowd and you're left playing the villain. Oh gods, this is too funny." She wiped her eye.

"Rika is going to love this."

"I think he just wants people asking him to dance tomorrow. His pride wouldn't be able to take him not having a partner." Shai smiled.

"Well, at least you don't need to worry."

Sam's name was called later in the round of 32. He walked out looking more relaxed than both Phil and Leo had, already watching the spear fighter before he'd fully cleared the entrance. Leo knew that look. Sam had been working out how to handle this fight in his head since the bracket went up. A short while later, the fight began. The spear fighter set up at a distance, point angled forward. He had the reach, and he knew it. Sam didn't dart in; he let his opponent feel comfortable with his perceived advantage.

He started moving in a circle around the fighter, slow at first, drawing the spear around to track him. The fighter was patient, not committing, waiting for something to happen.

"What's he doing?" Leo said.

"Making him work the spear," Shai said.

"Watch the fighter's shoulders." Leo watched. Every time Sam moved, the shoulders adjusted and the point followed. Nothing dramatic, just the constant small effort of tracking someone who wouldn't stand still.

"He's tiring his arms?"

"No. He's reading him." Sam continued to circle him, occasionally stepping closer, the spear flashing out. The hit never landed, Sam always just a pace quicker. When Sam stepped in again, he did so in an obvious way, building up to the movement. The thrust came again. It was fast, the fighter sensing a real opportunity to catch him this time. Sam stepped back off his front foot—barely a movement—the tip clearing him by mere inches. He drove forward off the back step before the spear could come back.

The sudden lunge caught the spearman off guard; he'd been expecting another retreat. Sam was inside his guard before he had a chance to do anything but step back slightly—more of a flinch than anything. The knife flashed out and a mark appeared on the fighter's chest. One.

"Holy shit, dude." Leo looked over at Phil and Luka.

"You see that? He nearly got hit. If he meant to do that, then that's pretty fucking scary," Leo said.

"Yeah, no kidding. I think what Ronan said about it being no contest if he was allowed to use fog was pretty spot on," agreed Luka. Phil nodded, despite himself.

"His style's similar to mine. I don't know if I could do that, though. He barely stepped back—how has he managed that?"

"I wonder if Diane's as shocked as we are," said Leo with a grin. Nessa listened to the lads, a small smile on her face as she watched her student reset.

"He's certainly impressive," said Shai.

"Agreed," added Ronan.

"Nice work, Nessa."

"Thank you," she said, without taking her eyes off the arena floor below. The fighter reset, clearly thinking. Leo could see the adjustment—he wasn't rushing anymore, having clocked the backstep pattern. He was going to play for it. Sam set the trap again, drawing a heavy thrust, but instead of stepping back, he slipped to the side. As the spearhead whistled past his ribs, Sam's arm snaked over the wood, clamping the haft tight against his side. The fighter yanked back. The spear didn't budge.

He braced his feet and pulled again with everything he had—and that's when Sam let go. Without Sam's weight acting as an anchor, the spearman's own force sent him stumbling backward, his heels catching in the dirt. It was only a split second of imbalance, but for Sam, it was an eternity. He rushed in, closing the distance before the man could find his feet. The blade tapped against his shoulder. Two.

"Okay, that was blatantly just him copying me," Phil complained.

"You don't have a monopoly on using someone's momentum against them, Phil," Leo countered with a smirk.

"It looked way riskier when Sam did it. That could have gone wrong so easily," Luka added.

"That's because it was," Nessa said, her voice steady.

"That's the sort of thing you need to do against a spear as a knife fighter, though. Sam is at a huge disadvantage; he's doing well." Shai, Torren, and Kai nodded in agreement.

"So far, none of you have taken a hit. You think you can continue that streak when it's your turn, Luka?" Torren asked.

"I don't know. Maybe? Depends on my opponent." Below them, the spearman had become incredibly careful. Every time Sam moved, the point tracked him, waiting for a specific pattern to emerge. Sam gave him one. He took three steps to the left, then quickly stepped forward before backing off, repeating the same setup each time. By the third repetition, the fighter's shoulders were already twitching to follow before Sam even finished the step. Sam went right.

He ducked inside the spear's arc, closing the distance in a blur. The spearman, terrified of being caught in another trap, didn't try to strike; instead, he yanked his weapon back and threw himself into a desperate backstep to reset the distance. He was bracing for another lunge. He wasn't bracing for a projectile. As the fighter retreated, Sam didn't chase with his feet. He planted them.

His arm snapped forward in a motion almost too fast to follow, releasing the dagger just as the spearman reached the apex of his backstep. The man tried to jerk his spear up to deflect the knife, but the weapon was too long and too slow. The dagger hissed through the air and thumped squarely against the center of the fighter's chest. Three. The crowd had been quiet for most of it. The cheer, when it finally came, was delayed—people were still working out what they'd just watched.

"Does anyone else find watching Sam fight slightly stressful?" Leo asked.

"Yes," Luka said immediately.

"Was that shit even allowed?" Phil asked.

"Yeah. But don't bother throwing your sword like that, Phil. I know what you're like," Shai said, shutting him down before he could even finish the thought.

"Sorry, mum," he said in a teasing tone. She rolled her eyes.

"There are no rules against it. People rarely try it because getting the weapon back if you miss is difficult without taking a hit during the reset. Sam's gamble worked because it's so rare. I don't know if it'll work a second time."

"Great. So we have to worry about people throwing shit at us as well, now." Phil grinned and looked at Luka.

"I dare you to try that with your maul, Luka. If you do, I'll call you Thor for the rest of the day." Luka laughed.

"Fuck off. And before you start comparing yourself to Deadpool or something, don't. You might both dual-wield swords and be ugly as fuck, but you ain't him, chief." Leo snorted.

"Holy shit. Less Deadpool and more 0-and-10 Yone."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm going to take that from a Wood 5 Yasuo." The three lads dissolved into laughter while Shai, Torren, Kai, and Nessa looked on, completely lost.

"Rika isn't here, so I'll ask. What is a 'Deadpool'?" Torren asked.