Myrin barely dodged Kaldalis’s sudden attack. Despite the heavy sword, she was light on her feet, and her small size gave her a bit of an advantage when it came to avoiding attacks. She swept in for a strike, but despite her fast feet, her arms moved slowly, and the swing was ponderous.

Kaldalis took the time to duck low under the horizontal slash, though with their relative heights, he almost had to drop prone to do so. He brought his polearm around, finding it felt unusually natural to whirl the weapon around before sweeping the edged head of it at Myrin’s right arm. The round haft of the glaive turned in his hands as the strike landed, becoming a glancing blow off of her armor. He still expected to deal damage with the strike, but no such luck. It seemed unlike a videogame, he needed to land his blows properly. It wouldn’t do at all to just flail his weapon in the direction of his targets.

Myrin allowed her sword’s momentum to carry her around, doing a quick spin and planting her feet, driving the greatsword around into an upward-angled diagonal slash. Kaldalis thought about trying to duck under again, but the angle of her attack sent him scrambling away at the last second. The woosh of the blade sailing past him was intimidating. Myrin wasn’t holding back at all, and Kaldalis resolved to return the favor.

As soon as the blade was past he stepped just barely inside the arc of the blade, using the haft of the glaive to extend his reach as much as possible, his rear hand almost on the very end of the wooden shaft. He jabbed the sharp end forward, and Myrin scooted back, barely dodging. Kaldalis shuffled forward, jabbing again and again as his sparring partner continued to retreat. She planted her feet to sweep her greatsword around again, and he took the chance to finally land a solid hit, stabbing the blade into her left thigh just above the knee, where her leather armor was thin. The strike did twenty-one physical damage and five wind damage. It was less than Myrin had done with the same spear, but it was a much more comfortable number.

Kaldalis easily darted back from Myrin’s next swing, but came back in once it was passed, sweeping the glaive around in an arc of his own. Only his weapon moved much faster, and she was unable to dodge as effectively. He tightened his grip at the moment of impact this time, and the blade stayed straight-on, inflicting another twenty-six total damage as the blade carved an opening in her armor and sent a curtain of red down her left flank, running over her hip.

She snarled at that blow and stepped up, swinging the sword with a bit more purpose. It didn’t seem to make the weapon move any faster, but her determination was doing a little to reduce the time after a slash before the next one came. He elected to focus his energy on dodging her attacks, only thrusting the blade of his glaive towards her when it was most convenient rather than trying to pressure her.

Her first strike was an overhead slash, diagonally from left to right. Kaldalis stepped back to let it sail past. He stepped in to harry her with another thrust of his glaive, but she rolled her shoulder with the blow, letting the weapon skid off her armor as she brought the blade around again. Kaldalis could have forced his attack down on her to try and saw through for some damage, but he backed off again, letting the greatsword cut air once more. He was about to move back in, but Myrin went into a full spin, only with no hesitation this time, and so he was forced out again as the tip of the enormous weapon skimmed barely an inch away from striking him. He darted in after the blow, looking to land another strike, but Myrin had redirected the blade after the spin, bringing it up in a movement that was half a strike and half a preemptive parry. Kaldalis was forced back, stepping to the side to avoid getting cut in half as he did so, his tail whipping around to maintain his balance during the sudden juke.

There was a little murmur raised around him, and Kaldalis became aware that they’d attracted a bit of a crowd. Not just the helpful few from before, but there were now more people in the basic starter gear. As their fight had gone on, something of a ring had been formed around them, and he wasn’t sure if they were talking about game mechanics or taking bets. Nearby, another pair of people had started their own spar, following Kaldalis and Myrin’s example.

Back to the matter at hand, Myrin’s blade swept back down on him, and he was forced to back off again. She took a step forward towards him and swung again, seeming to have a bit more control over the weapon. Every swipe seemed to give her a bit more confidence. Was her mechanical skill with the weapon increasing as they fought? Or was she just getting used to the weight? The combat system seemed to be far removed from most MMOs, since he had to posture and position and swing, instead of just standing still and waving the weapon at his target and trade strikes in turn. He had to admit, the more he handled the glaive, the more comfortable he felt with it. Regardless of the presence or absence of some hidden skill rating, just swinging it around was making him more confident with it.

Myrin’s attacks didn’t come fast, but after taking the full brunt of one strike on his shield earlier, he knew that he couldn’t take more than a couple, and so it was safer to focus on preserving his hit points rather than concern himself too much with whittling hers down. She slashed left to right, and then from the ground up, and then back around in a spin to perform two horizontal slashes in a way that felt as fast as possible. Kaldalis felt like he could have slipped in to strike in between any of these attacks safely, but something about Myrin’s seemingly reckless advance stayed his hand. He wanted a better opening.

“You can’t dance away forever!” the bhogad warned from nearby. “You can do it one-on-one, but as soon as you’re in a group, you have to consistently hold a monster’s attention. You can’t do that if you don’t hit them!”

A bit of a jeer went around the crowd at that, and Kaldalis felt his face flush. He wasn’t used to performing for an audience larger than his raid group. Much less being judged for his performance the first time he’d ever been in combat in this game. Instead of darting back at the next attack, he slipped to the side, planting his feet to thrust his glaive in again. Myrin shifted her weight, trying to let the blow glance off of her armor, but Kaldalis forced it through, tightening his grip and driving the tip of the polearm’s head into her shoulder a solid two inches, nearly all the way through to her back, considering her small suyon stature.

The greatsword swept around again, coming back like a deadly pendulum. His first instinct was to dodge back away, but he didn’t want to go right back to dancing around in case someone on the sidelines scolded him again. The blow was aimed in such a way that it was too low to duck under, but on too shallow of an angle to sidestep. He could have jumped to try and evade it, but he didn’t know how high he could actually jump in this game. He thought about parrying it, but remembered that blocking with a shield had dealt full damage to him, not to mention he feared that interposing the cheap wooden stick of the starter weapon before the overweight hunk of metal that was the greatsword would leave him suddenly without a spear to wield. He moved to strike again, deciding at last to just trade blows. He’d already dealt nearly sixty damage to her. What was one strike of the greatsword?

It was a horrible mistake.

The first thing he was aware of was that Myrin’s blow had been a critical hit. That notification came ahead of the damage number.

The second thing was that the damage number was ninety-seven physical damage and twenty-three dark damage.

One-hundred and twenty total damage.

The third thing was that he had eighteen hit points left.

At roughly the same time, he realized he was on the ground. His leg was twisted awkwardly, and bent in a place it hadn’t been bendy before.

“Yield?” he coughed, releasing his grip on the glaive in his hands. “I give up! You got me!”

Myrin, for her part, looked mortified. She tossed the bloody greatsword aside and rushed to him.

“Holy shitballs, are you okay? Jesus, I didn’t even know there were critical hits in this game. I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Kaldalis tried to sit up, but his leg made it very clear that such a thing was a bad idea. “I’ll be okay. As long as I can get another one of those potions. And probably set this bone.”

Balrim ran up in a panic, the potion still in his hands. His slid-pupiled eyes looked wild and panicked, and Kaldalis tried to give him a reassuring smile as he reached for the potion. The lizardman, instead, spiked the potion directly into Kaldalis’s chest.

While he was momentarily confused and angry about the scattering of shattered glass around him and into his shirt, the potion seemed to work just like the one the finnian had thrown earlier, filling the air around him with healing vapors. There was a sickening popping noise, and Kaldalis’s leg was suddenly functional again. Which was incredibly disorienting, because it didn't hurt.

“Okay, I think I need another of those,” Kaldalis said, sitting up again at last. “But maybe this time don’t break the glass directly against my body?” He winced and rubbed the sore spot on his chest. “I’d like my healing with a slice of no long term bruising, thanks.”