Chương 122: [Sam Vs Gomir]

Sam heard his name called and picked up his daggers.

"See you in the final," Leo said.

"We'll see," Sam said, though he was already thinking about Gomir and not the final. He'd watched the dwarf fight three times today. The way he used the axe, the footwork, and his ability to read opponents well enough to turn a losing fight in his favour. Gomir was the most complete fighter left in the tournament and he'd beaten Luka, which wasn't easy. Sam had watched that fight carefully, studying how Gomir moved between points, how he didn't panic but instead watched and planned.

That was the problem with experience. It made it hard to think of a counter directly. Sam knew the dwarf had likely faced an opponent like him before. Still, he had a plan. One he thought might turn that experience on its head. He headed for the tunnel. Gomir was already waiting when Sam walked onto the arena floor. The dwarf watched him cross to his starting point with the same unhurried yet focused attention he'd given every opponent today, his axe resting on his shoulder, runes dim under his forearms.

He nodded once when Sam reached his mark. Sam nodded back. The crowd was loud but not at the same volume as the Klaus fight. This was curiosity more than loyalty, two fighters nobody had a strong reason to back, both of them having done interesting things today, the crowd settling in to see what happened. Good. No pressure in either direction. Grimgar raised his hand. Sam took a breath and let his shoulders drop. Loose. Relaxed. Everything slow. Grimgar's hand fell.

Sam came forward at about half the pace he'd used all tournament. Slower steps, daggers low, probing at the edge of Gomir's range without committing to anything. Gomir watched him come and adjusted his stance slightly, the axe coming off his shoulder and into a guard that covered his centreline. The first exchange was short. Sam jabbed in with his right dagger, Gomir moved the axe to cover it, Sam pulled back. Nothing landed.

Sam circled left and tried again, a low probe toward Gomir's lead leg that the dwarf read easily and stepped away from. The axe tracked him the whole time. He's reading my movements. Good. Keep watching. Sam kept at it. In and out, never quite fast enough, always finding the axe in the way or Gomir's feet moving him just out of reach. To anyone watching it probably looked like Sam was struggling to find a way through; a fast fighter being neutralised by a shorter opponent who knew how to control distance.

The crowd murmured around the arena, not bored exactly but not excited either. That was fine. That would help. He let it go on long enough that Gomir had settled into a rhythm of his own, watching Sam's probes, tracking the daggers, confident in his read of the pace. Three more exchanges followed, the same combinations of movement and strikes. The same speed. Sam continued to pull back each time without landing anything meaningful. Gomir's weight had relaxed slightly.

He looked comfortable with how the fight was going. Sam knew he likely thought this was giving him enough time to read him and take control. Okay. This should be enough. Sam's left foot moved back. He felt his weight settle onto it, the same way it had in training a hundred times, the same mechanical setup that happened before every dash. His right foot came up slightly, ready to push off. His grip on the right dagger shifted to reverse. Then he pushed. The dash covered the distance in less than a second.

Gomir's axe was already moving to meet it—he'd been watching Sam probe all fight, he was ready—but the pace was completely different to everything that had come before and his adjustment was a fraction behind. Sam came in low, right dagger driving forward in a reverse grip stab angled downward toward where the stomach would have been on a taller opponent. Gomir was four and a half feet tall. The blade caught him on the shoulder before he'd finished moving the axe across. One-nil. Sam stepped back to his mark.

His breathing was easy, nothing pushed yet. He watched Gomir rotate the shoulder once, checking it, then reset his stance. The dwarf's eyes came up and moved across Sam carefully. He was looking for something. That's it. Figure me out. You're not going to let that happen again, are you? Gomir came forward after the reset. He wasn't going to let Sam have the space he needed to dictate the fight. Sam backed off and kept his feet moving, the daggers up, not letting Gomir pin him against the edge of the circle.

The pace was higher than the first point and Sam felt the difference immediately. Gomir pressing meant less time to think, less space to set things up. He started moving sideways, trying to keep the distance close enough to strike but out of range of the axe, throwing the occasional counter probe to make Gomir hesitant. He wanted his opponent to second-guess any strategy he came up with, forcing a moment of hesitation that turned the dwarf's opening into a missed opportunity.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Gomir respected it. He didn't overcommit, didn't chase, just kept the pressure up. Then, without any obvious tell, Gomir lunged. One hand on the axe, extended out from his body, the head of it driving forward at a range Sam hadn't seen him use before. Sam was already stepping back, but he'd measured the distance against a two-handed grip and the lunge covered more ground than he'd accounted for.

The axe head connected with his gut before he'd moved far enough. One-one. Sam stood at his mark. Well, that sucks. He played me at my own game. He'd thought of Gomir as a fighter similar to Luka, overly reliant on strength and not someone who'd use speed like that. He shouldn't have. He'd seen enough today—people jumping into attacks to compensate for a lack of speed, faster fighters showing strength they didn't look like they possessed.

He mentally kicked himself for falling into the same trap he'd been setting for Gomir. If he tries that again, it's going to throw off his balance. What are the chances he tries it a second time though? Grimgar reset the pair and the third point began. It started with Sam pushing forward at his normal, faster pace. Gomir adjusted, but Sam could tell he was wary. He'd seen Sam catch him in a trap once already, so he was wary of anything that seemed too easy.

His caution cost him small amounts of reaction time on each exchange. Small was enough. He kept the pressure up, in and out, mixing the angles. Left side, right side, low, middle. Gomir was handling it, but he was having to think rather than just react, and thinking took longer than instinct. Sam could feel the difference in the timing of the axe movement—a fraction slower than the first two points, Gomir working through each read consciously rather than automatically. Then, Sam let his left foot move back.

He held it for just long enough—weight settling, right foot ready, the reverse grip shifting on the dagger. He watched Gomir's eyes. Nothing. But the axe moved, just slightly, repositioning to cover the line the dash would come down. Nice. He's noticed. Sam pushed off anyway. Gomir moved to meet him, committing to the counter, his weight already going to where Sam would be at the end of the dash.

Sam felt the commitment happen—the slight forward lean, the axe starting its arc—and redirected mid-step, one foot coming down sideways instead of forward, his momentum carrying him past Gomir's lead side instead of into it. The axe went through empty space. Sam was already inside his guard, past the reach of the blade, his left dagger coming down onto the arm that was holding the axe before Gomir had finished the swing. Two-one. Gomir moved back to the starting point.

His eyes moved to Sam's feet briefly, then came back up. The fight began for the fourth time. Sam kept moving, keeping the pace high, testing Gomir's defense from new angles. He purposefully kept his footwork fluid, avoiding the specific setup he'd used to launch his explosive dashes earlier. He wanted to win this right now with pure speed, saving his energy and forcing Gomir to react to a completely different rhythm. He pressed forward, cutting inside with two hard probes in quick succession.

Gomir's reads were getting sharper by the second, the dwarf using minimal movement to turn the daggers away with the haft of his axe, but Sam didn't let up. He slid to the left, throwing a low feint that successfully drew the axe down, instantly creating a clear line to the dwarf's chest. Sam went for it cleanly, driving a fast, standard thrust toward the opening. But Gomir hadn't just been defending; he'd been tracking the distance.

Instead of trying to block the sheer speed of the incoming dagger, the dwarf executed a perfectly timed backstep at the exact moment Sam committed to the strike. The blade cut through empty air. With Sam's momentum carrying him a fraction too far forward into the space Gomir had just occupied, the dwarf used the pivot of his retreat to bring the axe around in a wide, vicious horizontal sweep. Sam tried to pull up short, but the forward momentum was already there.

He practically jumped right into the path of the counter-strike, the axe head catching him clean across the stomach before he could halt his motion. Two-two. He felt the hit across his midsection, dull and solid, and knew exactly what the dwarf had done. Gomir had measured the distance and put the axe exactly where he thought Sam was going to be. It was precise, it was fast, and it meant the trap Sam had been quietly setting all match had locked into place perfectly. Okay, he knows how I move before a lunge. Good.

I'd have liked to have won without needing to use this, but an ace up the sleeve is best saved for last. Sam looked at Gomir across the circle and felt everything slide into place. He'd spent the entire match using that obvious push-off setup to launch his dashes, making sure the dwarf registered it every single time. The trap was primed. Now he just had to spring it. They reset to the centre. Sam worked the daggers in his hands, feeling the weight of them, and completely cleared his mind. Grimgar's hand came up.

Sam let his breathing slow. He watched Gomir's feet, his hands, the angle of the axe. Grimgar's hand dropped. Sam moved forward slowly. One step, two, probing at the edge of Gomir's range the same way he had all fight. Gomir tracked him, patient, the axe covering the centreline. Sam jabbed in with his right dagger and pulled back. Gomir moved to cover it without overcommitting, waiting for the real attack. Then, Sam's left foot moved back. He felt his weight settle onto it. Right foot coming up slightly.

Grip shifting on the right dagger. The exact tell he'd used to launch his explosive dashes in the earlier points. Gomir's weight moved instantly. The backstep started, the axe already beginning its wide, vicious horizontal arc. The dwarf committed entirely to the counter that had just won him the last point, certain he was catching Sam mid-dash before any redirect could happen. Instead of pushing forward, Sam snapped his right arm back. The dagger left his hand.

Gomir was entirely mid-movement, his feet carrying him backward and his heavy axe sweeping through empty air. He had completely opened his guard to deliver the blow, expecting Sam to dive right into it. Instead, he was moving right into the trajectory of the throw. There was nothing to be done about it; his own momentum locked him in the path of the blade. Checkmate. The wooden dagger struck him square in the center of his chest with a loud, hollow crack.

The force of the impact killed Gomir's backward momentum instantly, his boots skidding to a halt on the dirt. He froze, the axe head hovering inches from the floor, his eyes wide as he looked down at the red mark painted over his ribs. Three-two. The arena went quiet for a moment before the crowd worked out what had happened, and then the room came up loud. Sam walked forward and stepped on his dropped dagger. He looked down at Gomir.

"Did ye plan that?" Gomir asked, his breathing heavy.

"Yeah," Sam said, nodding at the dwarf's stance.

"I've made the setup for my dashes easy to catch all fight. I know you have more experience than me, so I tried to make the tell too easy to miss. I use the same setup for my throws, so I wanted you to focus on one and miss the other. I'd hoped I wouldn't need it, that I could win without it." Gomir looked down at where Sam's foot rested on the ground, then back up. A laugh came from deep in his chest.

"Yer mind is yer sharpest weapon. It's obvious looking back. I can't believe I fell for that." Sam picked up the dagger, flipping it into a standard grip.

"Thanks. I think it only worked because you have a keen eye. If I tried that on Phil or someone, they'd ignore it completely." The dwarf shook his head.

"Well, all the best in the final. I told yer friend he's welcome to come visit us in the mountain. That goes for you and the rest of yer'."

"I'm sure we'll come visit. An actual dwarven mountain sounds amazing." Gomir nodded, smiled one last time, then left the arena. Looks like it's me vs Leo or Phil. Let's go see what those idiots think about that.