Swords clash in the distance.

The watcher draws closer, driven by boredom, curiosity, or something else, even they couldn’t say. Branches part into an open field, swiftly crossed. The wooden palisade is overcome as the watcher movers higher, hidden in plain sight, doing as they will.

The pair below wear thick, padded leathers, training swords in hand. One stands taller than the other. Their padding the brown of leather, with remnants of undyed cloth overtop, ragged and long in need of being replaced. They hold a greatsword in both hands, longer reach on top of longer reach, and attack with a presence of desperate determination.

The other holds an arming sword in one hand and a shield in the other. His padding is better maintained, cloth covering in good order, obscuring the leathers underneath. His shield carries the symbol of a hound painted onto its front, scratched and chipped from deflected strikes but still obvious in what it represents to all who see.

The heat is freshly started. The attacker raises their sword above their head and strikes forward, again and again, aiming not to hit with the body of the blade but with its tip. The technique is excellent, maintaining the advantage of superior reach while ensuring only the most dangerous part of the weapon, that part which best benefits from the circular force of the swings, threatens their opponent.

For his part, the dog knight raises shield. He is skilled enough to deflect with it; saving his arm from the numbing strikes of the large weapon, but not so skilled that he doesn’t need to deflect. Where the attacker’s better might tire them out by dodging their heavy swings, this defender can only manage the equally exhausting task of deflection.

It goes like that for several moves, the attacker pressing forward a step at a time; the defender ceding ground, too focused on protection to see what’s right in front of them.

The attacker’s stance leaves no room for defense. They press onward single-mindedly towards their opponent, their only defense, the overwhelming nature of their attacks. The attacker is skilled and it is a technique that likely serves them well against lesser opponents. But should that attack ever falter, they could soon find themselves in mortal danger.

It is the technique of someone who does not care whether they survive, so long as they win. A troubling tendency which speaks much of the one who uses it.

Unfortunately, the attacker’s opponent is not up to the task of capitalizing on their weakness. The first few blows are exploratory; intended to establish their tempo and seize control of it. Now they are more controlled. Still just as single-mindedly aggressive, but with attention paid to how best to crack the dog knight’s defense. 

They abandon the overhead blows for strikes from side to side, forcing the defender to move shield and sword from one side of their body to the other and back again deflect, all while the momentum of each of the attacker’s blows set their blade into position to launch the next attack. A well timed dodge might have upset that rhythm. A well timed block would certainly do so, but the attacker has their target thoroughly under thumb.

The dog knight is too caught up in his opponent’s beat to claim the pace with such a move. For that matter he likely lacks the endurance to take a strike straight onto his shield. The attacker would recover from the disruption before his arm recovered from being numb.

So he keeps stepping back; and they forward.

Still, though less skilled than his training partner, the dog knight is not totally out of his depth. He picks up on a quirk of the attacker’s swings; their grip is such that blows from the right have less power than from the left. Nevermind that their side is exposed as their body twists with each strike. A little less impact is something he could use.

Relying on momentum as they are, the attacker has only limited control of the angle of their strikes. The dog knight is skilled enough at least to influence that. Deflecting the right-handed blows just a little more towards the ground each time. He needs just a little less energy to deflect. And soon the attacker will need to change tactics, else risk their blade violently striking the ground.

By now both fighters are soaked in sweat. The match is a long one and though the attacker still maintains the advantage and the initiative, a clear winner has yet to be determined.

The attacker, it seems, is well used to punishing their body. They continue their wild swings, abandoning conservation of energy in favour of a variety of attack angles. 

Left. Right. Top. Left. Top. and Left again.

The barrage threatens to overwhelm the dog knight, but they know that no man can maintain that pace; his sparring partner will soon tire and then the heat might then be his.

Which is why the attacker wins. They step in sharply with a swing from the top-left, releasing the hilt of their great sword to allow momentum and burning muscles to bring the blade into position, then gripping the blade just under mid-way up. They stab forward with it, allowing the blade to slide against their left in a way that would have left it bloody with a real sword.

The stab is unexpected, coming from within the Dog Knight’s defenses. He is unable to get his shield in the way of it and the extra step forward means he can’t step out of the makeshift spear’s range.

So he takes the blow square to the chest. It is a lethal blow, though not one without recourse. Had he been as desperate to win as his opponent, he could have taken their head with his own sword as part of the exchange.

Instead he sags, then slumps, then curls over onto the ground. His sword drops as he grasps his stomach and breathes in pained gasps, the blow having knocked the air from his lungs.

For their part, the attacker drops their greatsword to help their fallen comrade. Whatever drives their reckless style, it is not a lack of compassion for their fellow knight.

The watcher is intrigued by this. Whatever has compelled them to be here, now they have a focus for their attention. 

Their gaze rests on the attacking knight.

Kaosubaloo

I'm back! And I hope you enjoy this story. It's a bit of an experiment on my part and I think that shows, but I also think it's a fun ride to the end, so hopefully you all think so too <3

But, in the mean time? If you want to read the entire first arc of this story, it's all up on my patreon! And if not, well, it'll all be here in a month or two.