“Make me, bitch,” he spat.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, cur,” she spat right back, smiling.

The barkeep yelled at them, “Don’t even think of fighting in my goddamn inn, you hear me?!”

“Want to take this outside, little boy?” Zelsys asked Halxian.

“Wherever you wish, hag,” he grinned. “No lethal weapons or techniques, first one to be incapacitated or submit loses.”

“So be it.”

None of the three Ikesians said anything to object, but they did follow Zelsys and Halxian when they walked out of the inn, as did Halxian’s companions. No more than a minute later, Zelsys was staring the young man down from ten feet away. The three stood a few meters behind her, Sigmund’s arms crossed as he observed. Her cleaver and Tablet were in Makhus’s grasp, whilst the gun alongside its arm-harness sat tightly clutched in Zefaris’s arms. She even took her boots off, just so she wouldn’t have to worry about breaking the brat’s spine with a kick.

In much the same way, Halxian’s compatriots took up stands a few meters behind him, but as these types of duels go, a crowd gathered well before the fighting could start. In fact, Halxian seemed reluctant to start before some sort of audience had gathered. A surprising portion of the bystanders were old men, noisily reminiscing about their own youths, though the vast majority were the youth - mostly teenagers, though a few younger children peeked through the innermost circle.

“You, old man!” he yelled, pointing at one of the older bystanders. “Countdown from three.”

The balding, spindly-looking man nodded, and pointed his calloused hand skyward. He looked to each of them in turn, first to Halxian and then to Zelsys.

“Three!”

The young man’s eyes confidently drifted across the gathered crowd, and he dropped into a low, exaggerated stance, arms and legs both wide. Zelsys just observed, subtly stepping forward with her left foot and placing her weight on it. She used the extra time to take a long, deep breath, filling her lungs to their limits. “No, that’s not the limit…” she thought, focusing to push her diaphragm further down and open up her chest to let her lungs expand even further.

“Two!”

With exaggerated, crystal-clear enunciation, Halxian recited, “Cloud-scattering Sacred Breath!”

The balding man hesitated for a moment at that, but continued with his countdown.

“One!”

The man swung his hand downward to signify the start of the duel.

Halxian took a sudden breath, creating a brief surge of wind directed towards him. Threads of Silver Fog began to rise from his open mouth, and he exploded towards Zelsys at an admittedly impressive speed, trailing veritable ropes of Fog as he went.

Her focus galvanized into a decision in the brief moment between the beginning of Halxian’s charge and the moment he could reach her. His fist was already held out high, he either didn’t know or didn’t care to avoid telegraphing his move. Perhaps he thought he was moving too fast for her to see.