From the right, a sweeping blow that’d easily take my head off-parried up and off to the side. Slashing forward with the instant provided for me, an attack of my own moves to claim my opponent’s head, only to be deflected in much the same fashion as their own attack.

  Launching forward, their knee comes flying up towards my groin, but the strike is stifled with a strike of my own from my right leg before it can fully extend, eliciting a grunt of surprise as I kick their leg up and into the air, though they manage to balance themselves as opposed to collapsing to the floor. Instead of backing off and regaining their footing however, Firliam leans forward with their dagger held in reverse, attempting to cleanly split open my throat.

  Dipping to the side and out of the path of the blade, I simultaneously begin leading the pommel of my blade that had been parried away back down towards their skull. I aim to smash the life out of Firliam through a direct strike to the cranium, but miraculously they manage to pull back from the strike just in time, not even flinching as the blow sails harmlessly through the air right before their eyes, though not letting up on the assault, I thrust the blade upwards at an awkward angle, attempting to at least poke out an eye with the effort.

  Tilting their head to the right, Firliam once more narrowly avoids the strike, planting their airborne foot back into the ground and leaning back as far as they can manage in a split second-to gain distance? Are they misjudging the situation? Or-

  But instead of pulling back any further, their head rockets forward, aiming straight for my own with intent to bludgeon clear as day, but instead of pulling back in that moment, I move forward and meet the strike with my own, smashing my forehead directly into theirs. At the same time, both of our blades come sailing toward the other from our respective right and left sides.

  Rebounding away from the headbutt with the force generated from it, I lean back as far as I can and bite my lip as the edge of their blade trails through my torso in an upwards motion, carving a thin line from the top of my legs up to the center of my chest.

  4!

  But while recovering from the aftermath of such an aggressive attack, their entire body is prone, in prime condition for me to strike. Pulling my left blade back to my side, I swing with all my might, taking advantage of Firliam’s broken posture as my blade crashes down from above. However, crossing their arms, they slam their dagger into my strike, forcing its power off to the side, harmlessly slashing the air.

  Though in doing so, they very clearly slashed their own arm in order to reach my blade in time, with their sword having already been extended, there was simply no other option for them. Though unlike Firliam, I’ve kept my options open.

  35!

  Thrusting forward with my left, with a clean opening and no blades with which to defend themselves with, I cleanly skewer Firliam through his armor, and whilst they probably knew this was coming, they still couldn’t help but grunt in shock.

  Though, instead of sitting there in shock and taking even more punishment, they at least have the good sense to try and at the very least pay back what I did to them in spades, driving their dagger straight towards my skull. And it had most certainly been in prime position to do so with the parry they’d performed moments earlier.

  With a grunt of my own, I kick off of the ground, ripping my sword out of their chest-7!-with a horrid cracking as I launch myself back, nearly tasting the Wild-forged Steel of the dagger.

  Seeing Firliam almost collapsing forwards with the amount of effort they put into that strike, I immediately dash back in, raising my right blade to cleave them in twain, but before I can put proper force into the attack, using the momentum they generated moments prior, Firliam twists their entire body before chucking their dagger straight upwards towards my face.

  With a blink of surprise, I step to the side as the blade whistles past, sending a breeze through my hair. My eyes can’t help but trail after it, but that soon proves to be a mistake of no small magnitude, when their fist collides with my face.

  26!

  In the same motion as the throw, they’d twisted their entire body upwards, and launched a devastating uppercut directly into my chin.

  Stumbling back, my grip on my swords tightens out of reflex, though-

  38!

  A strike connects flush with my chest, yet another of Firliam’s wide sweeping attacks, yet this time it actually lands. I didn’t even see it coming, yet that’s to be expected with what just happened I suppose. Even now, with that fresh spike of pain-

  16!

  Another blow slams into my temples, nearly knocking me off my feet and down onto the ground, where I would no doubt be savaged, but before my consciousness winks out from the blunt force trauma, my eyes snap towards Firliam as the pommel of their blade comes flying towards my jaw for yet another strike in the combo.

  Taking a step back and out of range of the strike, I blink rapidly as I regain my focus, before staring directly into Firliam’s eyes.

  Being so close, I know they see what’s about to happen, so obviously they take a step back to avoid it, but I don’t give them the chance, stepping forward with them and dropping my right sword, my hand snakes outwards as I grab ahold of Firliam’s arm. Once again, they try to launch a knee into my groin, but I raise a leg and cleanly block the strike, before ramming the sword in my left into their chest.

  48!

  Critical. Hit. Bitches!

  “Khhk!” They grunt out through closed teeth, attempting to pull their arm free of my own to gain the room they need to slash at me with any real amount of force, but I don’t let them. With our stats completely evenly matched on this front, they don’t have any immediate advantage, though… they are trying to flip their sword towards my back, now that I think about it.

  So I twist the sword in.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  15!

  “GRGHhhH!”

  Taking a few pages right out of their book, I shoot a knee up where the sun don’t shine-11!-and clearly not expecting that, they utterly fail to block it, nearly crumpling from the attack. I, of course, keep myself balanced by continuing to hold onto Firliam, even as they almost collapse.

  Finally letting go of their arm, they’re too dazed to even capitalize on it as they drop to the ground, not that I care. Well, I mean, I do care. It’s a good thing for me after all!

  17!

  Ripping my sword out of their chest as fast as I can manage, I grip the handle tightly with both hands, raising the blade high as if to decapitate th-actually, you know what? FUCK “as if to”, I AM going to! So, with full intention to end their miserable life, I bring the blade down with as much force as I can muster.

  And… cutting cleanly through the air, I’m honestly not even that surprised when they phase backwards, entirely avoiding my strike with the use of a skill of some sorts. Though, that’s not to say it lessens the rage I feel by any noticeable amount.

  “...Didn’t we agree on no skills being used?” I seethe, snagging the handle of my other blade on my boot, before kicking it up and into the air, snatching it out of the air, proceeding to flourish with both blades in tandem.

  “...”

  Remaining silent, Firliam rises to their feet, breathing in and out, very, very slowly.

  “Well!?”

  “...That’s right.” He nods once slowly, and then again. “You win.” He mumbles to himself firstly, and then announces it to me a moment later.

  “You win.”

  Grinding my teeth hard enough to break them should this be real life, I raise a blade to them, just about ready to leap across the room and carry on with our bladework. “Bullshit! You don’t get to challenge me after breaking Screech’s beak, and then decide to fucking quit!”

  “...”

  I can’t help but let fury overtake me for a moment, because, really, what the hell? Stomping forward, my toes curl in their boots, my left eye twitches to an uncomfortable degree, and twirling my blades is just about the only outlet I have to calm my rage without outright mauling this idiot.

  “That’s right, I harmed your friend completely unprovoked. You have every right to be furious with me, but this fight will go on no longer.”

  …

  I almost break out into a grin at the sheer absurdity of what they just said, but stifle it at the last moment. “Hah, so what, you’re just scared then?”

  “No, I wish to make amends.” They state clearly, before driving their sword into the ground, popping the bracelet that they called “Manacle” off a moment afterwards.

  “You…”

  “Ethan?”

  “What!?”

  “Could you calm down please?”

  “I-what?”

  I can practically feel the head tilt Screech is giving me right now, so…

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re so angry right now! It’s weird I’ve never seen anybody this upset about something.”

  “...And how many people have you seen upset about something?”

  “Well…” she proceeds to think it over for a moment, before chirping, “Just you!”

  “So then how would you know I’m upset?”

  “I mean I’ve been upset about stuff before and you’re a lot more angry than I was and I know I didn’t like being angry so that can’t be good right?”

  “You-” I snort, bringing a palm up to my face as I take a breath in.

  You know what? She’s not even wrong. What… am I so angry about? I mean yeah, this guy’s an ass, but whatever. I know plenty of asses. I suppose they're the only ass who’s ever given a friend of mine a concussion? But… meh, I really shouldn’t be getting his upset over a game. Alright Koth you big fat idiot, breathe in…

  “Hahhh…”

  Breathe out.

  “Alright, fine. Make amends how?”

  Firliam blinks for a moment, surprised no doubt, but quickly nods to himself, picking up the blade he’d “sheathed” prior, this time sheathing it properly.

  “Ah, good. I thought I was going to have to make you see reason.”

  “...The hell is that supposed to mean?”