I groaned as I looked at the barrack entrance.
Ever since Arthur's 'joke', I'd been trying to avoid this place. Everytime he went inside, Mat would instantly call me over. Eyes glowing with an almost fatherly pride.
From that point on, I'd get not one second to myself.
'I'm gonna kill Arthur one of these days.'
Taking a deep breath, I crossed the threshold, bracing myself for the tirade of 'advice' I was about to receive.
But this time Mat wasn't here.
"Oh thank the lord."
Across the room, I saw Arthur bent over something.
Ever since the briefing, we'd been given more free time than we knew what to do with. Officer Scarlet had told us she'd begin training after taking over Fort Lanai. And since we were just stationed here momentarily, there was nothing for me to do.
Arthur's head snapped up, tensing instantly.
My interest perked up immediately.
"Nothing.." he said, tone completely unconvincing.
"Oh okay" I replied, feigning disinterest. Calmly, I made as if to climb up on my bunk.
At the last moment I snatched something from Arthur's grasp.
"YOU-" he growled, lunging forward.
"Ah, Ah" I taunted, dancing backwards instantly. It was a book. "Oh…what's this, your secret diary?"
Arthur said nothing, gazed fixed on me with an ugly glare.
My eyes widened. "Wait….don't tell me it actually is?"
"Give it back" he growled.
"Should I? Should I really?" Tilting my head, I pretended to consider it. "Or" I continued, my tone deliberating. "Should I give it to Mat, after I read it myself."
A wide grin blossomed across my face. "What do-"
Arthur shot forward, suddenly moving with an inhuman speed.
'Bastard's using magic!'
But it was too late. In one fluid motion, he snatched the book out of my hands, wrapping his arms around it protectively.
'Shit!'
I wasn't too annoyed. Now that I knew of the book's existence, there'd be plenty more opportunities.
"Can't believe you got a secret diary" I chortled. "You going to wear a bra next?"
"It isn't a diary" he snarled.
"What is it then?"
He was about to speak, then stopped himself. Skin turning crimson. "It's-well, it's a…poetry book."
The look of utter disgust on my face was evident.
Arthur to his credit, didn't try and justify his shame, skulking back to his bed.
'Poetry. He's writing poetry? Well…he is a noble after all. Must be a common thing for them.'
Shaking my head, I dismissed the thoughts. 'Nobles. They probably write poetry to each other before duels.'
I guess it would have to be up to me to fix them all….through crippling embarrassment of course.
Just then, Felt walked in. Carrying all the usual humour and joy as a bloodied sword.
"You two, stop fooling about."
Arthur grumbled darkly under his breath, but said nothing.
I however…was exasperated. "What else do you expect me to do?"
"Train for one."
"Officer Mara said she's starting our training after we take Fort Lanai."
Felt raised an eyebrow. Which was usually the largest expression he ever showed. "Oh? And I guess that you two can't sharpen your skill by yourself? You must be feeling pretty confident about taking over Fort Lanai then?"
"I-well, I guess…." My voice withered under his sharp gaze. "I'll start right now" I sighed softly.
"Then go. Now."
"How about Arthur?"
Felt turned back around, as if just noticing him. "Yes, take Arthur with you as well."
That put a smile back on my face.
Arthur shot up a disgusted look as he climbed up from his bed, tucking the poetry book under his pillow.
"You want to spar then?"
He looked at me for a moment. Then a soft smile bloomed on his face. "Yeah, why not?"
...…..
Arthur twirled his practice spear in one hand, then spun it behind his back and caught it in a quarterstaff grip, the shaft whistling through the air.
Noah cracked his neck and bounced on the balls of his feet. His wooden sword was shorter than a real blade—closer to a gladius—but dense, and his fingers danced with tiny motes of frost.
"Ready for a beating?" Arthur smirked.
Noah grinned, tapping his sword twice on the ground. "Write a poem for me when I win, won't you?"
They moved at once.
Noah darted forward, blade low, eyes sharp. Arthur stepped into the thrust, pivoting his spear into a horizontal sweep aimed at Noah's shins.
Clack.
Noah jumped, twisting mid-air, and landed lightly.
He thrust again, high this time, but Arthur dropped his hips and spun beneath it, his back foot kicking up dirt as he slid behind Noah's flank. His staff jabbed out like a piston—Noah barely brought his blade back in time to parry.
They disengaged. Circling. Eyes locked.
"Didn't you used to use a sword?" Noah asked.
Arthur shrugged. "Got a better knack for this."
Noah didn't answer. A shimmer of frost flickered across his forearms. His breath fogged. The temperature dropped.
"Ah. Magic. Adorable," Arthur muttered. Offensive magic was one of his largest drawbacks. Right now, he could use it—but had no idea how to attack with it, apart from using Mana Surge.
He swept forward, spear whirling. Quarterstaff form. Close quarters. He faked a jab at Noah's knee—then reversed his grip and brought the blunt end up toward Noah's chin.
Noah saw through it. Stepping inside the spear's range, he let the staff slide across his shoulder and crashed an elbow into Arthur's ribs.
Arthur grunted, but spun with the blow—wrapping an arm around Noah's outstretched one and driving a shoulder into his chest. With a shift of hips and a hook of the leg—
BAM.
Noah hit the ground. Hard.
But not for long.
A pulse of cold exploded outward. Not enough to freeze—but enough to knock Arthur back, shoes skidding across the dust-flecked earth. Frost licked up the shaft of Arthur's spear, slowing his grip.
"Lucky bastard," Arthur muttered, shaking the cold off.
Noah sprang to his feet, blade dancing. "You wanted a fair fight."
"I wanted a real fight."
Arthur lunged, spear gripped tight. This time, he jabbed rapid-fire: high, low, feint to the gut, slam at the shoulder.
Noah flowed around the blows—parrying two, ducking one, then slapping the shaft aside and diving in again. His blade grazed Arthur's thigh—just a stinger, but a point all the same.
Arthur answered by stepping inside the guard. But this time, he had no intention of fighting with a spear.
It was time to use his advantage.
Namely, the skill and experience he'd gained as Reshi—an edge that, to his surprise, had translated well into this body.
He dumped the spear entirely, slammed a knee into Noah's stomach, caught his wrist, and twisted him into a lock. The wooden sword clattered from Noah's hand.
"Yield," Arthur growled, breath hot in Noah's ear.
Noah hissed, saying something inaudible.
A sudden chill ripped across the ground. The dirt under Arthur's knees iced over. He slipped, losing pressure—just enough.
Noah wrenched free, rolled backward, and kicked Arthur square in the chest on the way out.
Both sprang up, panting now. Dirty. Bruised. Grinning like wolves.
Arthur couldn't help it—he grinned.
Noah laughed.
They clashed again.
No weapons now.
Arthur's technique was brutal. Efficient. Hooks. Clinches. He ducked under wild swings, making Noah pay for each missed shot.
Noah's was less refined, but clever. He feinted often, danced light on his feet—avoiding more blows than seemed reasonable. But against Arthur, it was a losing battle.
Growling, Noah launched into a flurry of attacks, forcing Arthur to dance aside. As Arthur moved, Noah broke away, retrieved his wooden sword from the floor, and brought it back around into guard.
Arthur grinned, calmly picking up his own practice weapon as Noah waited.
Then—
He threw it.
Noah's eyes widened. He raised his weapon to defend.
At the same time, Arthur darted forward, closing the distance in a flash. As Noah deflected the spear, Arthur lunged, tackling him to the ground.
Noah struggled. Freezing ice bloomed from his grasping hands—biting cold.
Arthur powered through the pain. Shifting his weight, he locked Noah into an arm-triangle choke.
Noah writhed, face reddening as oxygen fled. Until finally, he tapped out.
Arthur climbed to his feet, heaving a heavy sigh, grinning.
"Where in all that's holy did you learn to fight like that?" Noah gasped.
"Noble training," Arthur lied shamelessly.
"Fucking nobles."
Laughing, Arthur helped Noah to his feet.
"You know," Arthur said, "maybe I will write a poem about this."
.
.
.
.
A/N
I know the story hasn't really progressed the last few chapters, mainly because of exams. So I added action at the end just to spice things up a bit.