Mahon walked calmly into the arena under the scrutinizing looks of the little crowd. He had left his spear with Jorik as Finem duels only authorized swords or equivalent. You could carry two shortswords, daggers or a two-handed sword, there was no restriction except that it had to be sword-related.

It had been sometime since I had a real fight with a sword.

For as long as he could remember, the spear had been his weapon of choice, but that didn’t mean he had always trained with the spear. In Nightmare, people usually started to manifest smaller weapons such as daggers or shortswords, and so, swords were part of the basics of any Nightmare warrior.

Mahon had slowly switched from the sword to the spear as he had grown stronger in Nightmare, but he had still trained with the sword as there were times where it was more suitable than a spear. On the other hand, against Varek’s shortsword and dagger, it would have been a piece of cake to defeat the man with a spear in hands.

He wasn’t less confident not to have his spear, though. If he with a sword had to fight another him with a spear, the spearman would win only because of the certain advantage of the spear’s range. But otherwise, the two would be pretty tied.

Mahon was a master of efficiency and control, looming over the battlefield like an undefeatable demon. The spear was perfectly adjusted to his needs. Although it was harder to master it to the peak, once done it was deadlier than the sword. The advantage of reach unlocked a wider spectrum of actions, and the weapon’s shape allowed for dozens of ways to attack or parry.

The versatility of the spear was a boon that could only display its full potential in the hands of a master, and Mahon had long reached the pinnacle of such an art.

A sword, on the other hand, was much simpler. It was shorter, lighter and often single-handed. A spear was mainly used with two hands whereas a sword only required one. Wasn’t it akin to someone fighting with his two hands versus someone with only one hand? It was why most fighters used a second tool when they were fighting with a sword such as a dagger or a shield. Some people would prefer going with the much more powerful two-handed sword, but anyway, it was rare to see people only fighting with a single sword and nothing in their other hand as it would obviously be a waste of potential.

It wasn’t the case for Mahon, however. As the years had passed, he had tested a lot of combinations with the sword until he grew confident enough to invoke a full spear in Nightmare. In the end, though, he had found his own style using only one sword and nothing else. It wasn’t to say he didn’t make use of his second hand, quite the opposite actually, he just found it more suitable for him to keep it empty rather than to use a second sword.

Mahon arrived in front of Varek with six or so meters separating them. They eyed each other warily as Mahon unsheathed his sword. He flexed his wrist a few times and threw his sword from one hand to the other with practical ease in a quick warm-up.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Someone voiced loudly. “We’re here to settle the dispute between Izut, mayor of Stonewell, and Siraye, sword merchant in the Frontalier’s caravan. The stakes involved for the winner and loser will be kept secret except for the two concerned parties, obviously, and that's why we’re dueling in such a small committee.”

A man jogged into the arena with a professional smile hanging on his face under a light applause of the public. He wore the clothes of the city arena judges and would be the official referee for the duel.

“To your left,” he continued, “with the shortsword and dagger, Varek, seven-star warrior! Although not well known, his duel history includes twenty-two official matches for twenty-one victories!”

A thunder of applause followed the referee’s introduction, and the mayor smiled proudly.

“To your right, with a single sword, a first time contestant!” The referee turned to Mahon. “Please introduce yourself officially.”

“My name is Mahon.”

“You have to state your rank too.” The referee added.

“I don’t have any rank.” Mahon answered with a simple smile.

A flash of doubt appeared on the referee’s face, but it quickly disappeared under a professional face. “To your right, Mahon, simple warrior! No duel history.” He then declared loudly.

A few sneers and laughs echoed in the crowd at the declaration. How was it a duel? A seven-star against a nobody was nothing but a simple execution. Some people threw a glance at Siraye, thinking that the woman didn’t know when to give up.

“The fight continues until first blood is drawn. As long as a single drop of blood falls on the ground, the winner will be decided, and the match will be over. I remind everyone that death is strongly prohibited, and if it should happen, the killer will have to compensate according to the victim’s rank as well as be banned from any duel for half a year.”

The referee threw a look at both contenders before he raised his hand in the air. “Are you ready?”

The two men nodded as the crowd grew silent in anticipation of the battle, no matter how short. The referee suddenly lowered his arm while shouting.

“Begin!”

Before his arm was even fully down, Varek had rushed to Mahon. The man’s acceleration was no joke, and the six meters separating them were crossed in an instant. Most of the public had been caught by surprise, and they gasped when they suddenly saw Varek already at Mahon’s side while the afterimage left at his initial position started to disappear.

Varek didn’t slow down, and he followed swiftly with a two-fold attack. His shortsword swiped at Mahon’s left flank while his dagger, caught in a reverse grip, stabbed at Mahon’s blind spot in such a way that even if Mahon saw it and wanted to block, he would expose himself to the shortsword’s attack.

The move was ruthless as Varek hadn’t aimed to only draw some blood. Instead, he had directly gone for Mahon’s vital spots with no care at all for the referee’s warning. As the weapons approached dangerously close to Mahon, the Last Red started moving.

An instant later, Mahon was two meters past Varek and his sword had changed hands. The people witnessing the scene looked with confusion at the scene. They didn’t even have time to see what had happened. Even Edwin had only caught a glimpse of the action.

Only the likes of Jorik, Virrion and Vivian had a clear understanding of the exchange, and where Jorik wasn’t surprised in the slightest, Virrion and Vivian had switched from their leisure posture to a more focused one. Both of them were frowning.

In the split second when Varek had attacked, many things had happened. Mahon had first switched his grip on his sword with practical ease. From a standard grip, he had caught the sword upside down in a reverse grip, letting the blade rest under his forearm and elbow while the handle protruded between his finger and major index.

With such a position, he had been able to both parry the dagger with the handle in his hand and deflect the shortsword with the blade under his elbow. He had then taken advantage of the instant during which Varek had been surprised at Mahon’s unconventional style to open his fingers, letting the sword drop.

Before it could even start to fall, he had already caught it back in his left hand while rolling forward. He had swiped at Varek’s thighs, but the warrior had shown incredible reflexes and had moved backwards just in time. But Mahon had released his grip on his sword, catching it back at the very end of the handle with two fingers. The move had given him five more centimeters of reach, and even though the swipe lacked in power, it still bit into Varek’s flesh.

From the moment he started moving, Mahon had never stopped for a single instant, linking one move into the other with incredible proficiency. The whole sequence had been swift and lightning-fast.

His sword had switched grip, changed hands, parried and stroked with unusual motions, and yet, when guided by the Flow and with Mahon’s perfect control, everything had felt pure and very natural. Rather than the sequence, it was that fact that made Virrion and Vivian frown. They knew how to recognize a master when one was in front of them.

The match is over.

Mahon was ready to walk back to Siraye and Jorik when he noticed the taunting smile of the man in front of him. He stopped warily and raised his guard again.

“Nice move of yours.” The warrior commented. “It seems I’ve been careless and underestimated you. But I’ll not do that mistake twice.”

Although Varek’s injury hadn’t been deep, it was still more than enough to draw blood, but to Mahon’s surprise the wound was barely red. Blood accumulated in the gash, but it hadn’t yet poured out.

“You drank something to make your blood more solid?” Mahon realized the strategy instantly.

If one knew of duel’s rules beforehand, it was very much in the range of tactics professional duelers would employ. It’s no use, still. It’s deep enough that if he can’t bandage it, it will flow as soon as he moves.

Varek chuckled and ignored him. Before Mahon had time to react, he crossed his weapons in front of him, and they suddenly ignited. His hood fell back, revealing a face painted with strange tribal symbols, all glowing red, as if a fire was burning beneath his skin.

Without hesitation, the sorcerer moved his dagger on his wound and cauterized it. A chilling sound and a scent of burning flesh silenced the crowd that had started whispering after the first exchange.

“How ruthless.” Mahon commented. “But with such sticky blood, I’m guessing you can’t afford to fight for long or there'll be lasting consequences.”

Although he appeared unperturbed, Mahon was internally fighting to maintain his Flow. After a second he managed to stabilize It at a surface level, but even in these conditions, Varek’s position was just an empty black hole in his mind.

That’ll be problematic.

Before he could stall longer, Varek pounced on him. The sorcerer had been very fast in their first exchange, but now he was more than thirty percent faster. Mahon had no other choice but to ignore his waning Flow and parry.

He managed to block the first attack, but had to take two steps back to stabilize himself.

What strength!

Varek didn’t show any surprise, however, and he followed with another swipe with his dagger, forcing Mahon on the defensive. Not giving him any respite, Varek continued with an intricate and complex attack pattern, alternating between his shortsword and his dagger.

Both weapons packed much more strength than before, and with Varek’s speed increase and his crippled Flow, Mahon was quickly pushed back in a difficult position.

It drags me down.

Mahon exited the Flow without further ado. He was fighting one on one and in a simple environment. Given the Flow couldn’t pinpoint his opponents, there wasn’t any need to monitor his surroundings. Even though the Flow could help him perfect his motions, the troubling fire magic hindered him more than not.

Now able to focus entirely on his opponents, Mahon’s fighting abilities slightly improved. He parried the incoming shortsword by holding his weapon with both hands, one at the handle and the other on the blade.

Varek’s weapon was deflected to the side, and Mahon accompanied the motion by pivoting along and stepping back. In the same movement, he let go of the blade in his left hand, and stabbed straight at the man.

The added power given by his twist helped him push back the dagger that parried his sword, and Varek was forced to a stop. The shortsword came for Mahon’s throat an instant later, but he blocked it with one hand, placing the flat of the blade on his shoulder to help him withstand the blow.

In the meantime, he moved forward and twirled his left hand over Varek’s dagger, rendering it useless. Mahon spun and arrived with his back against Varek’s chest. He then strongly punched the sorcerer with his left elbow. As Varek staggered backward, Mahon followed with a strong back kick in the chest, sending the man to the ground.

Varek rolled swiftly backward, nullifying the impact, and he immediately got back up, ready to fight. Three meters now separated the two men.

“Is that it?” Varek sneered. “Now that you’re done with your petty magic trick, let me show you what power really is.”

As he said so, both his weapons roared alive, their fire burning twice bigger. Mahon could even feel the heat from his position. The next instant, Varek blurred and almost became invisible for an instant as he rushed at Mahon with incredible speed.