"Ha-ha-ha! If you're going to sneak up from behind, you should've been quieter about it!"
With a booming laugh, Duvalan spun toward the tip of his Swordspear, where a gladiator, sliced in half at the waist, collapsed to the ground. The two swords he'd been clutching clattered to the dirt, his body split asunder.
The arena erupted with earth-shaking cheers, the crowd chanting Duvalan's name. But before he could acknowledge the roaring spectators with a wave, the spearpoints of Blick and Bnik thrust toward him.
Duvalan deflected their spears with his weapon, while Blick and Bnik moved swiftly, narrowly dodging or blocking his swordspear's swings with the small shields strapped to their forearms. The two gladiators traded blows with Duvalan in a fierce, unrelenting dance.
"Not bad! I like it! It's been a while since I faced opponents with this kind of skill. Ha-ha-ha!"
Though Blick and Bnik barely evaded Duvalan's attacks, he wasn't unscathed either. Their razor-sharp spearpoints slipped through the gaps in his armor, drawing blood with shallow stabs and cuts. But the pain of those wounds paled in comparison to the thrill of facing two gladiators who could match him blow for blow. A grin of pure exhilaration spread across Duvalan's face.
"Is that all you've got?! Come on, show me more! Attack! More!"
Duvalan parried simultaneous thrusts aimed at his throat, using both the blade and the long haft of his swordspear to deflect their spears.
"Urgh…"
"Blick! One more time!"
Bnik let out a battle cry and charged forward. The assault continued, but the spears of the two gladiators began to slow, their movements losing speed. Duvalan, who had been dodging with light footwork, now rolled across the dirt to evade their attacks, his armor taking grazes that sent fragments scattering to the ground. The exchange teetered on a knife's edge, like an acrobat balancing on a tightrope.
Blick and Bnik circled Duvalan, keeping their distance and attacking from opposite sides. But despite his hulking frame, Duvalan moved with uncanny agility, parrying their strikes. He sidestepped slower, heavier thrusts, blocked critical strikes with his weapon or armor, and twisted his body to avoid lethal blows, letting them glance off non-vital areas.
While the two gladiators grew visibly fatigued, Duvalan's movements only grew sharper, brimming with vitality.
The delicate balance of their exchange began to tip in Duvalan's favor.
"Too good to kill just yet, so I'll let you rest first! Hold on tight!"
"Bnik! Dodge!"
Kicking up a cloud of dust, Duvalan charged toward Bnik with a powerful stride. Bnik thrust his spear in a desperate counter, but Duvalan deflected it effortlessly. Without breaking momentum, he slammed his battered, hole-ridden shoulder armor into Bnik's face.
"Oh! Still got some fight in you, huh? Then here's another!"
Bnik's head snapped back from the blow, but before he could recover, Duvalan's second strike landed. Using the flat of his swordspear's blade, he struck Bnik's face again. The impact wasn't lethal—no cuts, no severed limbs—just a dull thud as Bnik was sent flying toward the arena's wall. The sound of splintering wood echoed as Bnik's body crashed into the thick wooden barrier.
"Ha-ha-ha! Bet you broke a few bones there! Next!"
Turning sharply, Duvalan leaped high toward Blick, gripping his swordspear with both hands and swinging it downward. Again, he used the flat of the blade, not its edge. But Blick, who had charged toward Duvalan at the same moment Duvalan rushed Bnik, had no time to react to the sudden aerial assault.
"Urgh!"
Blick tensed every muscle in his body, twisting to avoid the descending strike. But Duvalan's shadow, backlit by the blazing arena sun, loomed larger and larger over him. Realizing he was too late, Blick raised his small forearm shield and weapon in a desperate defensive stance.
In that fleeting moment, Blick knew this posture wouldn't stop the attack. But he had no other options.
Bracing himself, he thrust his shield higher.
CLANG!
A heavy metallic ring reverberated through the arena. Standing between Duvalan and Blick was Grielle, panting heavily from her sprint, dust clinging to her armor. From behind her massive shield, she whispered to Blick, "Thank goodness I wasn't too late."
"Hoooh?"
Duvalan's voice carried a mix of curiosity and admiration as he raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips at the sudden appearance of Grielle.
"Tch… Thanks, Grielle. You saved me."
"I'll hold the front. Strike when you see an opening from behind me."
"Got it. I'm counting on you, Grielle."
After their brief exchange, Grielle pushed back Duvalan's swordspear and swung her sword with her right hand. Following her lead, Blick's spear darted toward Duvalan.
"Ha-ha-ha! You're making this fun. Polish those skills a bit more, and you'll really be something!"
Duvalan stepped back, grinning broadly, using his swordspear and forearm bracers to block their attacks. Grielle and Blick pressed their assault relentlessly. The dull thuds of strikes against Grielle's massive shield mingled with the sharp clangs of clashing blades. Sweat dripped from their foreheads and arms, scattering droplets onto the arena floor with every swing.
The crowd roared in response, cheering each thrust of Blick's spear and each slash of Grielle's sword. It felt like standing in the midst of a thunderstorm—the applause like rain, the cheers like thunder.
"Ha-ha-ha! I can see it in your faces—you're feeling the same rush I am! Isn't it thrilling? This is a sensation only gladiators like us can savor!"
Duvalan knocked aside their spear and shield with a single swing, his voice booming.
But despite the crowd's fervor, the two gladiators couldn't break through Duvalan's ironclad defense. He remained composed, occasionally forgoing blocks to swing his swordspear in wide arcs, forcing the two to halt their onslaught.
Yet there was no killing intent in Duvalan's movements. Instead, his attacks seemed to give the two gladiators, who charged with reckless abandon, a moment to catch their breath and regain their composure.
"Time to wrap this up, I think. Dragging it out too long bores the crowd."
Duvalan planted his Swordspear into the ground, unwrapping the whip of Rikta coiled around his arm. The iron barbs embedded in his flesh came free, blood spurting briefly, but he shook it off with a hearty laugh, splattering the ground with crimson. Rolling his shoulders, he advanced toward Grielle and Blick.
"Still not enough to impress the God of Duels, Rhaud!"
Duvalan charged at Grielle, slamming his fist into her massive shield. The force, combined with his full weight as he leaned into the strike, sent Grielle skidding backward, her shield scraping the dirt.
Having decided to spare Blick and Bnik, Duvalan abandoned his swordspear, opting for his fists. The flat of his blade couldn't keep up with their swift movements, so he chose raw power instead.
As Grielle staggered from the blow, faster than Duvalan had anticipated, Blick hesitated. His reaction was delayed—not just because he couldn't match Duvalan's newfound speed, but because his eyes had drifted to Bnik, struggling to rise in the corner of the arena. Seeing his oldest comrade, his only brother, alive filled Blick with relief and joy, but it paralyzed his legs and arms when he needed to act.
"Too slow, spearman! And where are you looking?!"
Spotting Blick's lapse, Duvalan shifted his momentum from pursuing Grielle and closed in on Blick.
That moment of distraction came at a steep cost.
"Argh!"
Blick's belated thrust missed, slicing through empty air. Duvalan ducked low and drove his fist into Blick's abdomen, lifting him off the ground. With a short groan of pain, Blick crumpled to the arena floor.
"One left!"
As Blick fell unconscious, Duvalan turned back to Grielle.
"You held out well until the end, Lady Grielle!"
"Hraaah!"
Grielle roared, raising her shield high and slamming it into the ground, anchoring it firmly.
"Ha-ha! That won't stop this!"
Duvalan leaped, kicking Grielle's shield with his foot. The impact staggered her, and before she could regain her balance, a barrage of fists followed. The crowd's cheers, the heavy clangs of Duvalan's gauntlets against the shield, and his booming laughter blended into a rhythmic symphony.
Moments later, the sounds echoing through the arena fell silent. As the dust settled, only one figure remained standing. Beneath him lay Grielle, collapsed beside her crumpled, misshapen shield.
"Ha-ha-ha! That's it for today! I spared three of them, so keep that in mind!"
"Why'd you let three live this time?!"
"That was a hell of a show, Duvalan!"
"Took you long enough!"
Whistle!
"Ugh… my… money…"
"See? Told you he'd spare three!"
The octagonal arena brimmed with cheers for Duvalan.
"Stick around for the next match, folks!"
Duvalan yanked his swordspear from the ground, slung it over his shoulder, and strode out of the arena.