Raylas jumped to the side to avoid the grasp of the dwarf. He felt his armor get scraped by the man’s fingers but he managed to avoid getting caught, but the fight was now fully in action.

He spun around and elbowed the dwarf in the back of the head. Terrok stumbled forward but recovered quickly and returned with a swing of a fist. Raylas dodged again with a spin, grabbing the wrist of the dwarf and using his momentum to throw the dwarf away from him.

The dwarf slammed into the snow with a grunt. Raylas wobbled to regain his footing on the slippery snow, which was quickly getting compacted into a mix of mud and ice. The throb remained but slowly faded away into the background of his mind as he focused on the dwarf.

The man rolled over and pushed himself off the ground with a pop, landing solidly on his feet. He jerked his head from side to side, releasing a loud crack as his neck popped which made Raylas wince. Terrok chuckled and started forward again, his steps pounding deep footprints in the softening soil.

Raylas rushed to the side, using the pole in the center as a makeshift barrier to slow down the bull-like charging dwarf. Terrok clicked his tongue as he leapt sideways trying to spear Raylas from the side but Raylas sidestepped the clumsy attack and retaliated with a kick to the dwarf’s stomach.

It was like kicking a rock. Raylas winced as he made contact, but the dwarf flew off course and rolled across the field in a wave of snow. Despite the pain he felt a string of satisfaction when he saw the dwarf groan as he got back to his feet again.

“Foul play,” Terrok grumbled.

Raylas laughed and planted his feet on the ground. The dwarf was tough and strong, but he was very upfront on his attacks. There wasn’t much finesse, just brute force. Despite the analysis, though, Raylas was not going to ease up on his defenses. Lowering them due to an apparent weakness was a surefire way to wind up dead on the battlefield. There was always the possibility that this was a very elaborate feint to get him to lower his guard and then get pummeled by getting caught.

As such Raylas waited, watching the dwarf as he shrugged off the snow and stretched out his arms. Despite everything he could tell that the short man wasn’t taking the entire fight completely seriously. It wasn’t at the point he was underestimating Raylas, but more like the stakes were not high enough for him to truly give the fight his all.

The town was also muttering in the background. Raylas gave them a glance and noticed that there was a very large crowd gathered around the filed. The town guards, at least six of them, were walking back and forth to keep the townsfolk from getting too close to them fighting, and the three judges were still standing at the same spot. From his judgment at least a third of the town had gathered around.

A spike of danger spread across Raylas and he dropped to the ground. A meaty fist flew past where his chest previously was and a solid boot stomped down on his back. The dwarf stumbled at the change in terrain, which Raylas took full advantage of and rolled to his back and threw a punch upward into the Terrok’s groin.

His fist was accurate and the results were immediate.

Terrok let out a pained cry and stumbled back, clutching his battered manhood. Raylas crawled to his feet and charged toward the dwarf, kneeing him in the face. Like before it was like he slammed his limb against a wall, yet there was also a satisfying crunch as the dwarf flew back into the snow.

Then there was a slight respite. Raylas gasped as he felt the bruises solidify on his body. His back was aching, the side was throbbing, and his knee and knuckles were screaming at him. The sturdy body of the dwarf might have cracked a bone or two during his attacks, but as the man slowly stood back up Raylas smiled seeing his face covered in a steady stream of blood.

Terrok bellowed words in dwarvish at him. Raylas didn’t know exactly what was being said, but he knew the intention from the inflections of the man’s words.

“All's fair in a fight,” he dismissed as he clenched his pained fist.

“But below the belt…” Terrok hissed, rubbing his bruised parts.

“You only have money to lose. I have my life.”

“Damned idiot.”

Raylas laughed and started to pace around the dwarf.

A commotion to the side started to grab his attention but before he could look the dwarf launched himself toward him again. Raylas sidestepped like before but he failed to get far enough away and felt an iron fist get a hold on his armor. He tried to twist away but the metal started to warp as the Dwarf squeezed.

Then he felt the world shift. He felt weightless and saw himself rise up over his opponent. It was strangely familiar to see the world shrink down and start seeing the top of peoples heads, and it was within that moment he also realized he had no air in his lungs.

He managed to take a pained gasp only to also notice there was liquid in his mouth and throat. He spluttered and let out a solid cough before he felt himself grow heavy and the ground rush to him. Then it arrived and there was another unique feeling of something being driven into his ribs.

Then the world turned to red as he hacked away to fight for breath. The red liquid flew out of his mouth at every cough and the feeling which entered him grew moist and started to burn. He rolled over and winced seeing the side of his breastplate turned into twisted scrap metal with sharp protrusions where a chunk of it was ripped off. One of them happily bent and disappearing into his chest.

Raylas looked up and saw the dwarf stomp forward, his fist opening and dropping a chunk of metal into the snow. Seeing him approach with an extremely serious look, the previous mirth gone, he growled and pushed onto the ground and lifted himself up.

Raylas felt unsteady as he gasped for breath. Most of the blood had been ejected from his body, but there was something numbed in his stomach. He couldn’t feel much down there except the occasional touch of cold metal. His chest was hot as he felt a slow oozing of blood flow out of wound.

Then Terrok started to run forward again. Raylas waited, feeling his muscles loosen and himself prep himself on the balls of his feet. As soon as the dwarf reached him Raylas closed his eyes and took a hold of the fist flying at him and sidestepped like before, leading the fist forward and guiding the dwarf around him and sending him stumbling into the pole.

Raylas blinked in surprise at the unusual movement. He didn’t think, but acted to keep the other man away.

Terrok launched another attack, but Raylas dodged again with a sidestep. He took a hold of his arm again and with another step he guided his momentum around and threw him into the air.

It was like guiding that chain. The weight at the end would swing by and strike him if he lost control of it during a swing. So, to avoid getting injured, he would use the chain and guide the weight around his body and well within his control. It was the dance of death he used against the zombies all over again.

The short man slammed into the ground with a grunt and appeared to bounce back onto his feet. He had a wide smile on his face and shook off the snow.

“Now that was different,” he laughed, then his smile fell as he looked past Raylas into the crowd.

Raylas sighed and took a hold of the broken metal and yanked it out of his chest and let it fall to the ground. Then he followed the Dwarf’s gaze.

The commotion from earlier had grown into a full scale event with Aymor looming over the judges. The Mayor was trying to hide behind the scarred man while Mary was confronting the agitated grandson.

“You have no right to do this injustice to my family’s name,” Aymore roared while pointing at Raylas. “That man holds the badge of my grandfather, working under his name. What you are doing here is an affront to not only the honor of the Malix family, but also to the Knights order.”

“We have seen no such badge,” Mary spat. “If that man had one he should have shown it before it reached this stage.”

“He showed it to me while inside the prison!” the man argued.

“Now hold it,” Terrok called out, stomping toward the trio. “What is so damn important to interrupt me duel with this punk?”

“There shouldn’t have been a trial to begin with!” Aymor cried out. He started to enter the field but was stopped by a guard. “Raylas! Where is the coin? Why didn’t you show them the coin?”

Raylas sighed, feeling the world sway slightly from his wounds. He hadn’t bled much, meaning he might have hit his head during one of his landings. Speaking of, where was his helmet?

He felt a cool breeze blow past him and he gazed around the field to see the domed metal sitting halfway across the green, half-buried in snow.

How did it get there?

“Raylas!” Aymor yelled again.

Oh right… he wanted to see the coin again. Raylas dug his hand into his bag and took a hold of the largest coin and pulled it out. It glinted with a golden light and he examined it again. The printed tree and designs were lovely, definitely a high quality print.

“Gold?” the Mayor gasped.

“Why didn't you show that to the judges?” Aymor asked. “We discussed throwing your weight around to make them listen to you!”

“I tried,” Raylas replied, still dazed. “But I had no leeway in the discussions.”

“The coin, you idiot!”

“Why would I try to bribe them?” Raylas inquired. He had gold, and gold was worth a lot but it was also trusted to him from a Knight. There was no way he would give it up and become indebted to someone of Sir Vodianus’ might.

Aymor sighed and smacked his head in frustration. He made a gesture which didn’t fully register to Raylas but he felt a touch on his arm. Terrok was looking up at him, his nose had started to swell but the bleeding had apparently stopped.

“Let me see the coin, lad,” he said.

Raylas thought for a moment before slowly nodding and handing the blacksmith the coin. He was a trustworthy person, who gave honest punches and made good deals. He didn’t rip him off when he ordered his armor, after all.

Terrok took the coin and examined it. His brows furrowed and he strode over to the edge of the ring and flicked the coin to Aymor who turned to show it to the judges. The Mayor gasped and the other two paled at looking at it. Raylas understood such reactions. Gold was something very few people outside the major cities got to see everyday, so showing it off in a small town like this was bound to get quite a reaction.

“This… this trial is concluded in Raylas of Eilire’s victory,” the Mayor stammered. “Judgement is ruled that the loser also does not have to pay–”

“What are you doing?” Mary snapped.

“Saving all of our hides is what I’m doing,” he retorted.

“That thing is still out there…”

[There is a Challenger]

Raylas winced at the booming voice slamming into his skull.

[Another claims the inheritance and challenges for ownership. Will you accept?]

Raylas froze as the words slammed into him. They felt like the dwarf was punching his head over and over again. Before he could sit and understand the message he heard Terrok.

“You okay, lad?”

“Yes… I think–”

[The challenge has been accepted. Prepare to fight or die]

“What… what?” Raylas blinked.

“Lad?”

A horn blew in the distance and Raylas stood still, thinking. There was a challenger, then a fight in which he somehow accepted, and then the horn…

“We might be in trouble,” Raylas concluded as a guard stormed through the crowd toward the hunter.

“Sir, undead have started exiting the fortress. A full horde.”