Chương 118: [Sam Vs Ivaran]

Phil came up the steps still whistling, hands behind his head, the picture of someone with absolutely no regrets. Shai turned around.

"You're an idiot." Phil looked left. Looked right. Looked back at her.

"Who, me?" The lads laughed. Leo shook his head. Phil was still at it.

"I told you not to throw your sword. It was reckless," Shai said.

"What if you'd missed?"

"I know. But I didn't."

"That's not the point and you know it."

"I mean." Phil dropped his hands and shrugged.

"That's fair. I know it was a risk. But I needed to push the advantage. I'd already got in his head and the throw was what made the third round easier. Once he was that pissed off he was going to come at me hard. I just needed to pick my moment." He paused.

"He was a hard man to break down. That was the way I found." Shai looked at him for a moment. She didn't disagree with the logic. She just hadn't expected there to be any. She thought it was just Phil being Phil. Then she noticed Kai. He was standing slightly back from the group, arms folded, and he was grinning. Shai stared at him.

"Something funny?" Kai looked at Phil.

"He's right." The group stared at him.

"Huh?" said Phil.

"The mental game is a legitimate weapon," Kai said.

"People don't use it in the trainee tournament because they think it's unsportsmanlike. That's their choice." He glanced at Phil.

"What you did is more common in the guard tournament. People who've seen real fighting know that anything that works is worth using. Breaking someone's composure before they throw a strike is no different to breaking their guard after it."

"I mean, yeah. That's obvious. It's what everyone does online," Luka said.

"Someone starts tilting and you wind them up until they throw the game."

"I was surprised it worked as well as it did," Sam said with a grin.

"Phil's usually the one doing the tilting when Luka starts feeding."

"Hey, fuck you man. It's not just me," said Luka. The other three stared at him.

"I know you don't actually believe that," said Leo. Luka rolled his eyes.

"Whatever."

"It's no surprise it worked. When you four and Parmo are constantly needling each other, I can see why attacking him mentally felt like second nature," said Kai. They smirked at each other. Getting a backhanded compliment about their ability to take the piss, from Kai no less, was pretty funny.

"In actual warfare it's expected," Torren said from the back. He had his arms folded and was nodding slowly.

"You fight the person as much as you fight the weapon." Phil pointed at Torren.

"See."

"Don't let it go to your head," Kai said, the smile still there.

"It worked because you read him correctly and committed fully. That's the part worth praise." He paused.

"The part worth watching is whether that commitment ever stops you seeing what you should be seeing. A fighter who wants to win badly enough can miss the thing that beats him." Phil took that in. For once he didn't immediately respond. Leo watched Kai and filed it away. He'd seen Kai on the training ground, seen him in sessions that had felt more like being systematically dismantled than taught. This was different. He'd noticed it more recently, but Kai was starting to warm up to him and the others.

He liked this side to the big wolf. Shai had obviously grown up with this version of him. It was nice they had grown on him enough to let them see it. Nessa hadn't spoken but she'd been nodding along while listening to the conversation. She caught Leo's eye.

"If there's one thing that idiot Mars does well, it's this. He's pretty good in these tournaments and it's got nothing to do with his skill with a blade."

"Bringing him up when he's not even here, Nessa?" said Sam with a teasing tone.

"Oh, don't start with that. I know where you're going with it. I told you before there's nothing between Mars and me." Sam looked over at the others and covered his mouth with one hand.

"Why don't I believe her?" He wasn't quiet about it. Nessa went red as the group started laughing. Shai grinned at her friend.

"You really do make it too easy for them, Ness..." Nessa shook her head and went back to looking at the arena. The announcer walked back out onto the sand a few minutes later. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Next fight. Sam against Ivaran. Will Sam's footwork and fast attacks see him to victory once more. Or will Ivaran's net snare another victim on his way to the semi-finals. Get ready ladies and gentlemen, because we're about to find out!"

"Guess that's me. Wish me luck."

"Yeah, good luck man. If you start losing, just take the piss. Worked for Phil," said Leo.

"Wait for him to miss you with the net and tell him he couldn't hit water if he fell out of a boat," added Luka. Sam laughed and walked off towards the steps.

Sam came through the tunnel to a decent reception from the crowd. Ivaran walked out shortly afterwards to the same applause. He gave Sam a pleasant nod as he walked to his mark.

"I think he's going to try and control where Sam can move," Leo said, watching Ivaran's feet.

"He did it in his last fight. The trident's more of a tool for keeping people where he wants them than anything else. The net's the real problem."

"True. It's easier to see from up here though," Shai said.

"I've fought against it before. When the trident is in your face and the net is a constant threat, it's easy to fall into the traps they like to set." Sam got to his mark and shortly afterwards the fight began. Ivaran opened with the trident, probing at Sam's guard, not committing to anything heavy. Sam moved laterally, reading the strikes, staying just outside range. Leo could see what Sam was looking for. A mistake or a window to close the gap. He wasn't finding one.

Ivaran changed tack, moving the trident slower. It looks like he's intentionally leaving space for Sam to step into. He was right. Ivaran waited until Sam came closer and then thrust, the tip drifting toward Sam's lead leg, slower than a real thrust. Sam adjusted his footwork to cover it. That was a mistake. The net was already moving. It came around while Sam was mid-step, his foot going exactly where Ivaran had pointed it, and took his legs out cleanly.

Sam hit the dirt and the trident was at his throat before he'd finished untangling himself. One.

"He walked him right into it," Phil said.

"Like a sheep dog."

"Sam probably knew it was coming, just wasn't sure when and where," Leo said.

"We saw him do the same earlier so Sam was no doubt trying to spot the trap. Just didn't catch it in time."

"Yeah. Honestly, I'm glad I didn't need to fight him. Feels less like a fight and more like playing chess or something," Phil said.

Back on the arena floor, Sam got up, shook the net off his ankle, and looked at Ivaran's hands. He wasn't angry. More contemplative. The fight restarted and they went back and forth for a while, Ivaran patient with the trident, keeping him at the end of it, the net hanging loosely in his other hand like it wasn't a factor. Sam was moving constantly. He wasn't trying to land anything, just keeping himself mobile, his attention never far from the net. The trident continued to cover the space between them.

Then Ivaran's net hand moved. Something was wrong with his movement though. Sam couldn't have named what — something about the way he moved, the angle, the weight behind it. Instead of moving away he stepped inside just as Ivaran jabbed out with the trident. It missed, Sam's instinct getting him clear of it before he drove his left dagger toward the hand holding the trident. The hit landed hard on the forearm, red mark blooming before Ivaran could pull back. One-one.

On the viewing step nobody said anything for a second.

"He spotted the feint..." Luka said, surprised.

"Either that or it was a gamble. If he does it again then we know he's figured it out," said Leo. Ivaran reset. His footwork was wider this time, the net hand coming up earlier than before, drawing Sam's eye before the throw. The net came out wide and Sam stepped back, letting it go past him cleanly. He saw the gap and moved forward to take it. Ivaran pulled. The net swept back across Sam's lead foot mid-step and took him off his feet. He hit the dirt on his back.

But in the half second before it landed he'd seen something. Ivaran's eyes had moved — just briefly, just a flick — from Sam's feet to somewhere to his left. And his shoulder, the net side, had been different. Looser than usual, the tension dropping out of it just before the throw. He'd seen it too late this time. One-two.

"Got him again," Phil said.

"Yeah, maybe the first time was a fluke," Leo said.

"I wouldn't be so sure. Look," Kai said. They looked down at Sam who was smiling.

"I think he's figured it out. Good thing too, he can't afford another slip up. Hah. You see what I did there?" Phil said.

"Jesus. I'm the dad here, why are you the one making terrible jokes?" Leo said.

"Cos it's funny. Don't lie," Phil said. Leo grinned.

Back on the arena floor Sam started pushing forward, more decisive than before. He stopped trying to read the net entirely, keeping his focus on Ivaran's eyes and shoulder instead. He kept moving, kept Ivaran turning, not committing to anything. Just watching the shoulder. Waiting for the tension to drop out of it. Ivaran probed with the trident twice. Sam gave ground both times, unhurried, eyes where they needed to be. Then the tension dropped out of Ivaran's shoulder. Sam was already moving.

Not away this time — toward the net hand side, cutting across while Ivaran's focus was still on the throw. The net went wide behind him. Ivaran's trident was pointing the wrong way and Sam was inside his reach before he could bring it back around. Ivaran tried to back away and turn, making himself smaller, the trident coming round. Sam was faster. He drove the dagger into Ivaran's shoulder before the turn finished. Two-two.

The reset happened and Ivaran threw the net immediately. Sam had been half expecting it. He sidestepped, the net going wide, and Ivaran was already moving forward, both hands on the trident now, the net hand gone. No more setup, no more positioning. Just the trident coming fast and direct like a spear. Sam gave ground. Ivaran was faster than he'd been all fight, the two handed grip driving the thrusts harder and quicker, and Sam found himself deflecting and stepping back, not finding the space to close.

He kept his eyes on Ivaran's face. There it was. The same thing as the shoulder. Ivaran's eyes moving to where the next strike was going before it came — his arm, his leg, his chest — a fraction ahead of the thrust each time. When the eyes went to his leg Sam didn't step back. He let the thrust come and brought his foot down hard on the trident head as it reached him, driving the tip into the dirt.

The force of it and the sudden stop threw Ivaran forward, his balance gone, the trident buried uselessly in the ground. Sam stepped inside and drove the dagger home. Three-two. Ivaran straightened up slowly, breathing hard. He looked at Sam for a moment.

"You're fast," he said.

"Nobody's worked out how to beat the net before. Not like that."

"You didn't make it easy," Sam said. Ivaran smiled. He held out his wrist. Sam grabbed it and smiled back.

"Let's grab a drink later. This was fun. I would have liked to see you against Phil. He's good but I think he'd have lost before he worked it out." Ivaran tilted his head.

"Speaking of which. How did you figure it out?"

"You have tells. Your shoulder relaxes just before you throw, I think you're trying too hard to hide it. Your eyes also move to where you plan on striking just before you do."

"Really? I had no idea. Thank you. If we fight again, I'll give you no such hints." Sam laughed.

"I'll look forward to it."