Azhar slinked back into his charging stance, his body low and his feet extended behind him, the tips of his feet digging into the dirt, channeling as much energy as they could. He took in a breath, every little muscle sculpted on his body clenching with the exertion. Magical energy surged from him, around him, manifesting as an angry red aura.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, pattering on the grass.

Li knew spirit shamanism was extremely hard to maintain. The magic, whether it focused on summoning spirit creatures or empowering the body, focused on toggled abilities, and those drained mana by the second at an astonishing rate.

The tax on Azhar's body was evident, and he wondered whether the hinterlander could maintain his relentless assault before he tired.

Launcelot did not move. He instead kept his guard up as always. He tucked his chin in and lowered his head a little while angling his body sideways, reducing the amount of torso that Azhar could hit and to compensate for the fact that he only had one arm to guard with.

His blue eyes were narrowed, pointing their razor-sharp focus towards Azhar. Those eyes did not change their focus even as Azhar disappeared from their sight.

To Li, Azhar moved slow as a snail, but he knew that to Launcelot, the hinterlander must have seemed like he had become a blur impossible to react to.

And Launcelot did not react. Azhar slammed his fist into Launcelot's stomach again, and with the recoil from the high velocity charge, flipped backwards to gain distance and reassume his charging stance all in one fluid motion.

Launcelot slid backwards, nearing the edge of the circle. Because of his guard, he took no real damage, but two more hits like this, and he would be out the ring.

"You're all outta' options, prettyboy," said Azhar with a grin. "All that muscle just weighs ya down. Think real fightin's all bout' eatin' hits to the face like ya always do? Get real."

Launcelot remained silently rooted in his stance, simply continuing to stare at Azhar with an unyielding intensity. Li did not know what the shielder was going for here, and he waited, seeing how he would handle these turning tides.

Azhar shifted a little downwards – a hint that he was starting his charge. Launcelot instinctively flexed his muscles, hardening them to dissipate incoming impact.

This time, though, right before Azhar charged, a green light washed over him. A buff, and from conjecture based on his level, class, and the familiar color and particles of the buff, Li could guess this was [Ranger's Focus] which boosted attack speed and guaranteed the next attack as a critical hit.

Azhar charged again. He had charged twice to lead Launcelot on, getting him used to bracing for a regular charge's worth of force. But this critical hit would surprise him and send him straight out the ring. He might have fallen behind on technical skill, but in raw combat instinct, Azhar rivaled Launcelot.

Launcelot managed to react. Not to the blindingly fast charge itself, but to the green light that had manifested over Azhar for just a split second before the charge began. Launcelot casted a buff of his own, a blue light shimmering across his body.

[Unbreakable]. A warrior-class buff meant for reducing burst damage. It severely mitigated the power from the next incoming source of damage.

When Azhar's fist crashed into Launcelot's stomach again, the result was the same. Azhar's critical strike loosed a cracking impact almost like a bullet, but because Launcelot had steeled himself with [Unbreakable], he was pushed back only two or so meters.

Even so, this was enough to put Launcelot right at the edge of the circle, his heels kissing the line in the dirt.

Azhar flipped back again, getting low to the ground for another charge.

"You're tough, I'll give ya that. But ain't toughness gonna' save you from ringin' out."

Launcelot, like always, did not respond. He simply kept his guard up and focused on the fight in front of him. Though it was almost imperceptible, Li picked up with his sharp senses that Launcelot had straightened his posture just a little.

Although Li did not know why Launcelot made this movement, it seemed important considering the shielder had not moved an ounce beforehand.

"Well, no last words for ya, I guess," said Azhar before he charged again.

Launcelot's eyes widened for an instant, not in surprise, but in reaction. He swiveled his hips, thrusting his leg out in a kick.

The sound of flesh slamming on flesh slapped through the air as Azhar sailed backwards, crashing hard enough into the dirt that he skid into it, chunks of dirt clumped with grass sticking to his back. He wheezed; the air knocked straight out of him. An ugly, foot-sized red mark on his stomach indicated where Launcelot's kick had landed.

Li nodded in acknowledgement.

Launcelot had taken the first few hits to get a sense of Azhar's timing. He had not responded to Azhar's taunts because he had shut them out, completely focusing on what movements Azhar made before he charged, how his breathing changed, how fast the charge was, when exactly he stuck out his fist, and countless other number of variables to get used to the attack.

Knowing these variables after eating several hits, Launcelot had calculated exactly what to do. Li had focused his attention on Launcelot's face this whole time, and not once had the shielder's eyes actually ever had the reaction time to legitimately pick up and properly track Azhar's movements.

Instead, Launcelot estimated when Azhar would be in range, and, knowing that the hinterlander's arm reach was longer than this, decided to throw out a kick at approximately the exact moment he predicted Azhar would get hit – something that Azhar had entirely not expected as Launcelot's boxing had conditioned Azhar to think the shielder fought only with his hands.

Li recognized that Launcelot was a genius combatant.

Almost to the point that it was a complete waste that he had decided to become a tank and soak damage. His razor sharp battle instincts, predictive knowledge, and utter mastery of his physical limitations would have made him an exceptional damage-based warrior, but in the end, Launcelot did not wish to fight, he wished to protect.

The fight was over.

Azhar could not have taken a hit like that. This was not like the game where only a set value of damage occurred for every attack. Real world mechanics such as physics applied here, and Azhar had not only taken the damage from Launcelot's kick, but had essentially doubled the damage by running into it with his reckless charge.

But when Li was about to raise his hand to call the match, he saw Azhar raising himself up. The hinterlander could not breathe and probably had felt a strong enough impact to rattle his brain, but he still stood.

Slowly, but surely Azhar pushed himself up with shaky arm and legs, and though his body might have been in shambles, his eyes were still defiant, narrowed on Launcelot in challenge.

Li did not call the match.

Launcelot almost mercilessly rushed forwards and tackled Azhar down to the ground. Azhar had no real strength to resist, and Launcelot wrapped his burly arms around Azhar's neck in a headlock.

"Halt the duel!" Jeanne tugged at Li's shirt, but he shook his head.

"He hasn't given up," said Li. "If I stop the match while he still hasn't given up, he won't listen to you. Call him hardheaded or stupid, but it is what it is."

Even now, Azhar was struggling, using his shaky hand to claw at Launcelot's arms, trying to pry them from his neck.

Launcelot's hold was unreakable, restricting blood flow to Azhar's head, and within ten seconds, the hinterlander went limp, his head hanging over the nobleman's arms.

"Duel is over," called Li out to Launcelot.

Launcelot nodded and slung an unconscious Azhar over his shoulder, bringing him out the ring and towards Li and the rest of the group.

"Good sir," said Launcelot as he approached Li. "Can you spare healing elixirs for the warrior?"

"Is this your way of feeling better about beating him down? You could have stopped after that kick, and yet you continued your relentless assault," said Jeanne.

Launcelot shook his head. "It would have been an insult to him to have ended the fight there. He wished to fight to the very limits of his ability, and I merely granted that wish."

"You hurt him far more than you should have!" protested Jeanne.

"I am sorry. I did try my best."

"Try your best for what? To show off your strength?"

Li stepped in between Jeanne and Launcelot. The wyrm did not follow him, afraid to get between so many powerful people. "To stop from killing him. Launcelot had plenty of chances to flat out kill Azhar. Imagine if he had angled his kick towards the head. Towards the liver. Or let's not even think about that. What if he had angled it towards a leg or arm? Broken a bone or two? No, he precisely determined where to hit to disable, not to maim."

Launcelot nodded and bowed his head to Jeanne. "I understand it is painful to see one close to you fall in battle, but he would not have had it any other way. I will carry him to his room in the Golden Flagon and provide any measure of assistance for his comfort. In return, I swear that I will lead your party to success in the Chattering Forests and, if needs be, in Duvin."

"In return?" Jeanne looked aghast. "We have not even agreed to take your help. And now, why should we? Come, Sylv, let us take Azhar and see to his recovery. This whole idea was terrible in the first place. We should have given up on the Gigantopede hunt the moment Azhar injured his arm."

"If that is your wish," said Launcelot with a slight bow, taking care not to shake up Azhar on his back.

"No." Sylvie spoke up. This whole night, her voice had wavered with guilt, but now, it was surprisingly resolute.

"We cannot abandon the hunt. All five gold and platinum parties in Duvin have moved to Trieste for the Kraken hunt. We are the only party capable of engaging the Gigantopede, and abandoning the hunt is abandoning the people of Duvin to fall further under its fangs."

Jeanne bit her lip as she tried to protest against Sylvie.

"Az would not want us to stay here," said Sylvie. "In the first place, he went through all this trouble, took this beating, all to prove he could keep us going on our hunt. How will he feel to know that in the end, it was him that made us stop?"

"She's right," said Li. "He fought this hard because he didn't want to hold you back. I know you care about him. I know you can't stand to see people getting hurt, but if you're going to hold yourself back for him anyway, then he did all this for nothing."

Jeanne looked at Sylvie, then at Li. She seemed conflicted, but then sighed, her shoulders slumping.

"You are both right. I wish I had tighter reigns over my emotions, but alas, it is who I am."

"We appreciate who you are because it is you," said Sylvie with a smile.

"If we're in agreement, then let's act quickly," said Li. He waved Launcelot over. "Jeanne, heal Azhar with your priest-class spells. I'll brew a few elixirs to help with his recovery, though I doubt he'll need it. Whatever he has to recover from, it'll be mental, not physical."