"Begin"

Instantly, Torbjorn began advancing, his footwork mesmerising everyone as he almost floated across the snow towards Halfdan. On the defence, he began stepping back anxiously without any technique and almost slipping on the ice every other step. Another gust of wind chilled everyone to the core but only seemed to allow Torbjorn to advance faster with the power of the wind behind him. Just a few steps away from Halfdan, he swung viciously, aiming for his legs. Luckily, Halfdan dropped his shield to cover his lower leg, stopping the axe from taking off his leg, but even still, his shield buckled underneath the force. Still backing away from Torbjorn, Halfdan checked his shield, cracked but intact. It would only survive another hit with the axe. Another swing flew past Halfdan, which he only missed due to the wind slightly pushing Torbjorn off balance. 

"Come here, you weakling!" shouted Torbjorn, who always acted over-aggressive whenever it came to combat. All he saw was the chance of a drop of blood. Halfdan wouldn't win through brawling with him. he had to use his wits to beat Torbjorn. Still, however, stricken with fear, he could barely think straight!

Think

Think!

Think!

Halfdan heard a voice again but couldn't pinpoint the direction causing thoughts to dash across his mind. 

That's it! Halfdan thought to himself as he felt the same searing pain in his head before everything snapped to black.

Suddenly, Halfdan stumbled backwards, falling over onto his back and shouting out in pain, dropping his shield. A laugh rippled around the arena, obviously making fun of Halfdan's complete failure even to take a single swing. Halfdan glanced across to the spectators and saw Olaf cheering on Torbjorn quickly paced towards Halfdan on his back and stood over him, pushing away his axe.

"Look what happened to the weakling this time, always on his back in pain. You will never be as great as your father. only I can match his power!" Torbjorn boasted, "You lost."

Halfdans flashed with a glimmer of hope. Grabbing a handful of snow with his spare hand, he threw the snow up into Torbjorn's face, temporarily blinding him and allowing Halfdan to slide underneath him, grab his axe and swing for Torbjorn's arm. The onlookers gasped in shock. The air seemed still and stale.

Feeling a sharp cut in his arm, Halfdan recalled in pain clutching his arm. He looked down at his arm to see blood seeping from his arm and down to the ends of his fingers. He looked up to see Torbjorn smiling smugly.

"I won, weakling." bragged Torbjorn as the others began laughing. "So how long did he last?!"

"5 seconds", Gunnar added but with an odd smirk pointing at Osborn. "He would have won!"

"Would? What are you on about? I did win. He lasted 5 seconds!" exclaimed Osborn in protest as a grin rippled across Gunnars face before turning to face Torbjorn.

"Not too fast, you two. Torbjorn, all you want is to draw others' blood. It blinds you to where," Gunnar explained whilst looking at Torbjorn's arm, "you can't even feel the pain of being cut yourself."

Torbjorn, slightly wincing, looked down at his arm and watched as blood seeped through his coat and down his arms onto the snow below, pooling and turning the snow red. It went deathly quiet as if the earth had stopped spinning.

"Y- you cheated! How dare you. that was not fair!" he yelled out, grasping for an explanation. "You used cheap dirty tactics. That wasn't fighting!"

Happy with himself but still in a lot of pain, Halfdan responded by regurgitating what he had just been told not minutes ago. 

"This is war. You are lucky I didn't cut deeper. You would be dead if I did. Like you said yourself, never take your eyes off your enemy. I used that against you." taunted Halfdan while clutching his arm in pain but overjoyed with his victory. 

"You little sh-" Torbjorn screamed as he charged towards Halfdan, ready to swing his axe down onto his skull as Halfdan raised his axe to block.

"Enough!" Gunnar commanded as he blocked Torbjorn's incoming attack and then shoved him back, tripping him over and making him fall on his back. "The fight was over! Neither of you won!" Torbjorn began to raise himself off the ground but was met with a boot to his chest, pinning him to the ground. 

"To become a great warrior, Torbjorn, you do not need to just fight with just this weapon", Gunnar explained while pointing at his axe, "but also up here", leaning over and tapping his forehead. 

"I, I don't understand!" Torbjorn shouted.

"Your physical skills outmatch Halfdan by a long shot right now. However, what he lacks in physical strength, he makes up for by using his brain." pausing for a moment to take a icey breath, "You may win the battle, but Halfdan will win the war. Now shake his hand."

Halfdan stood up, strode over, accepting the draw as fair and shook the embarrassed and dumbstruck Torbjorn still on the floor covered in snow. After clutching his hand and helping him to his feet, Torbjorn turned around to walk back to his friends with his head hung low. 

Wincing slightly, Halfdan put his head in his hands as another burning pain across his scalp before his vision disappeared and returned in a matter of seconds. Instantly, his knees felt weak, and his body drained. His fingers began shaking uncontrollably as Frida rushed over to start treating his wound as Osborn approached Torbjorn:

"I know it was technically a draw, but any chance you could still get me that hour?" Osborn cheekily requested only to be met with hostility from the defeated man armed with an axe. 

"Maybe next time..." Osborn whispered under his breath.