"Sir Aelfried the Undying had been the greatest hero Knallzog had ever known ever since his feats in the great war three centuries ago, where he single-handedly held a mountain pass against endless waves of enemies for a week, and lived to tell the tale. From there came the saying: To face the Undying, your widow will be crying." - Bernd Eiernhof, dwarven historian

Contrary to expectations, the fight between the two Blood-affinity Archmagus started with slow and measured maneuvers after the initial clash where they struck at each other with all their strength. That direct clash just confirmed what the two combatants already suspected beforehand, that Cal was the faster of the two, while Aelfried had a good bit more strength in him.

The two circled and probed at one another while they kept their guards up at first. Aelfried attacked sporadically with his ball-and-chain weapon while his axe and buckler was kept on the defensive, while Cal returned the favor with cautious stabs as she kept herself at a safe distance as first.

It only took a minute or so before both combatants had measured each other's mettle and engaged in a more direct clash. For the time being, both still devoted a measure of their attention to their defenses, and while both sides landed a few light hits, neither had allowed anything more serious to land so far.

When they separated from the melee, Cal sported several scratches and a slight bruise where Aelfried's flail barely missed her, while the old dwarf had a couple slight cuts from when he blocked a touch too slowly.

Both of them grinned widely to each other, communicated with their eyes, gave a mutual nod, and struck at each other once more. This time, the audience gave a surprised gasp of horror, as neither combatant held back, nor had they spared a thought to defense. Aelfried's axe chopped into Cal's right shoulder as his flail slammed against her left side and broke a rib, while in return Cal skewered the old dwarf through his lung with her halberd, and somehow found time to draw one of her machetes and slashed it across the dwarf's abdomen.

When they pulled back, not a single drop of blood dripped out from their wounds, nor were their weapons stained. The manic grins on their faces just widened, and they charged again, left wounds on each other, and repeated it as their strikes grew wilder, their well-honed instincts the ones that guided their bodies through combat.

Cal had to admit in her heart, that the thrill and excitement she felt when she fought Aelfried, who matched her and could take whatever she dished out and return it with interest, was a whole different level to any fight she had even been in before. The battles she fought during the civil war were more akin to slaughter, where she bullied her way through throngs of opponents who never stood a chance to begin with, whereas the spars she had with Aideen was lopsided in the other way, as the much older woman was far too experienced, to the point that Cal was the one who never stood a chance.

She ignored the pain from the cuts and broken bones Aelfried managed to inflict, and focused her magic, as she manipulated parts of herself where movement became difficult due to the damage already sustained directly with her magic. She guessed Aelfried had started to do the same, since she was certain that the last cleave she landed on his left arm should have somewhat disabled it otherwise. By now the civilians in the audience had mostly watched in silence, riveted in both awe and horror as the two struck each other with what should have been fatal blows many times over. The military part of the audience however, cheered and roared their lungs out as they watched a battle like none other they had ever witnessed.

As the fight went on, the two fought more and more wildly, their blows intended to land where it would have inflicted the most damage on their opponent, with no thought whatsoever given to defense. Blows after blows landed on their bodies, their clothing turned to tatters as flesh was cut and bones were broken repeatedly, yet the two fought on as if they felt nothing. As if it was not their own bodies that were horribly ravaged, devastated with reckless abandon.

By the end, the fight lasted a whole three hours, during which time not a single watcher left their seats - the king included. Both Cal and Aelfried could have likely fought on for weeks if they faced normal opponents, but they had given their all against each other and went all out, which consumed their powers at a far more prodigious rate. At the end, both of them collapsed to their knees in the middle of the arena, their manic grins still visible on their torn up faces as they eyed each other.

Cal's right arm and leg were nearly severed from blows of Aelfried's axe, while most of the bones on the left side of her body had been pulverized by his flail, her left eye shut from one such blow, while many deep cuts riddled her torso, her entrails nearly visible from the many cuts that had opened up her abdomen.

On the other hand, Aelfried fared little better, as his shoulders were both concaved in and smashed by repeated blows of the hammerhead of Cal's halberd, while many puncture wounds riddled his torso. One deep cut in particular went nearly a third through his thick neck, and his right eye was pierced by one of Cal's knives, which lodged itself firmly there.

"Gud fight, lassie." Said Aelfried with a tired, but satisfied voice as he offered his fist to Cal.

"Aye, good fight indeed." She returned as she bumped his fist with her own.

A large group of healers immediately rushed towards the center of the arena and started to treat the two shortly after that, while the stunned crowd finally regained their composure and applauded thunderously.

It took two days and many tired and drained healers before Cal and Aelfried got back to their feet and boisterously laughed at each other. The old dwarf looked younger after the experience, and Cal herself felt as if some of the burdens she carried in her heart felt lighter somewhat. The two felt ravenous even after the long rest due to their overuse of magic, and polished off a whole roasted auroch between them, as well as several barrels of strong ale.

After they ate, Aelfried offered Cal a pair of shortswords from his personal collection, as she broke two of her machetes during their bout. The swords were quite short, a little under three-quarters of a meter, of sturdy design and made from adamant steel. The double-edged blade had the form of a very narrow triangle, but with well-sharpened edges that made it effective at both slashes and stabs. She accepted Aelfried's goodwill, and set one of the short swords on each side of her waist.

That afternoon, Cal accepted Aelfried's offer for a tour of the dwarves' training facilities. They had only been halfway through the tour when they walked into an open field where many young soldiers trained to grapple and strike at one another. The dwarven instructor asked if the distinguished guests cared to grace the recruits with some personal lessons, to which both Cal and Aelfried agreed.

The next hour that followed were full of pain and humiliation for the new recruits as the two veterans taught them a vast multitude of dirty tricks both had learned in their long lives. One thing led to another, and the next thing Cal knew, she had spent the majority of the evening in a barehanded fight with Aelfried as the recruits watched them with utter awe.

Both of them giggled like prepubescent schoolgirls when Aelfried's daughter came to look for them later in the evening and found them still in the middle of their brawl.