The next fight is against a man around my height from the Juggernaut's, though he is considerably stockier than me.

Again, since the main tactics of the Taldarian Juggernauts is tight sword and shield formations, this puts their whole company at a disadvantage. The ones entered into the tournament are likely veterans than used a longsword before joining with their current employer.

This guy looks quite a bit older than me, perhaps in his late 30’s or early 40’s and has a couple of small scars visible, likely going well with his war stories of how he got them.

What I’m hoping is that he’s strong but slow.

We both ready our self in the middle of the courtyard.

I assume the near-ward stance, putting the hit at hip height and facing the blade backwards, facing down at a 45 degree angle. Being very beneficial for fast upwards cuts, I intend to finish this within the first couple of strikes.

Upon the signal to fight, I dash forwards quickly closing the gap whilst keeping my blade at a 45 degree angle behind me and see him get in the appropriate stance to parry such a readable attack.

At the very last moment I twist by body to the left, assuming the same stance on the opposite hip.

As he moves to better position his guard I swing fast and hard, rather than aim for exposed points I target his sword.

The familiar metal sound reverberates through the courtyard, with the majority of the force knocking my opponent off guard.

Since I’m still moving forwards, I use my speed to spin around his left shoulder before he can react, almost bringing me directly behind him.

Using my spinning momentum, I swing horizontally towards his spine as he starts to turn towards me.

My sword flashes out at the very limits that the human eye can follow and drives into his left ribs, resulting in an audible crunching noise as his ribs shatter.

If he turned a second slower, he’d have a broken spine. Either way he can't remain standing, much less fight.

And so, I go to the next round.

Before everyone leaves to go eat or go back to their neglected duties, the announcer loudly reads out the line up of the next fights.

I’m up against a bastard called Dixon Antoni from the Dancing vermin.

Someone whom I’ve disliked for the second I ran into him.

He’s cocky, egotistical, has his head too far up his own arse to not go around talking shit.

What’s even worse is that he’s a great fighter, and had won both of his fights one-sidedly.

So if I was to accidentally break his neck, it wouldn’t exactly keep me awake at night.

As I begin walking back towards my quarters, him and five of his arse-kissers are waiting for me.

With their annoyingly talented alpha stood at the front of the pack with a stupid grin on his face, practically radiating self-confidence.

“Hey Reagan, just wanted you to know that I’m looking forward to the fight tomorrow. Perhaps you’ll even get a hit on me. If I'm feeling generous of course!” To this the rest of his toadies began to systematically laugh along with him, almost sounding pre-rehearsed which wouldn’t surprise me.

Unlike some, I don’t have great control over sudden extreme urges.

And so I drive my fist hard into his gut, with the rest of his ‘friends’ beginning to draw their weapons with the look of anger on their face. All except two, who are trying to stifle a laugh as Dixon is keeled over on the ground.

Ignoring the aggressive curses directed at me, I casually stroll past the men still holding their half drawn swords and enter to building in which I’ll find my quarters.

Though fighting is a punishable offense, I’m fairly certain Dixon’s overwhelming pride will stop him from reporting me.

Hopefully his anger turns into rage for tomorrows fight, as it will make him predictable and easy to beat.

Come tomorrow however, this doesn’t look to be the case.

Opposite me is a man who is clearly angry, but holds a cold vicious look rather than the predictability of a raging fire.

No matter, I intend to win matter his facial expressions.

Unlike the last round, where it was instant elimination. This fight will be the best of three, provided that both parties can still fight after the first and/or second duel.

The first round progressed with both of us pretty evenly, with both of us flowing through stances, dancing around each other constantly swinging and parrying.

After five minutes I avoid yet another attack and thrust at his face.

Swiveling to the side, my sword misses and a second later he swings upwards for the side of my neck.

Seeing this, I raise my sword hilt above my head and redirect his blade, causing him to over-swing.

Using this opportunity I lunge forwards and aim for his exposed leg, but quick reactions allow him to parry the swing. My true purpose however, was to get close to him, which I accomplished with our face almost touching.

Taking advantage of the close distance, I swing my right elbow into his nose and succeed in sending him stumbling backwards with a guttural howl.

I then swing at the sword he’s holding awkwardly in one hand before he can put up his guard, knocking it harmlessly to the side as it leaves his hand and flies a few meters to the side.

Finally I raise my longsword to his throat, forcing him to yield.

Unexpectedly he doesn’t lose control of his emotions and retains his angry yet perceptive gaze.

All I need to do now is win the next fight to go into the next round.

For the first three minutes, the fight followed the same pattern of both of us holding our own.

I then attempt a heavy swing at his sword arm, however he hops forwards whilst ducking and using his sword to redirect mine over his head.

Before I can recover, he directs a kick at my stomach, perhaps as an attempt of payback.

Denying him the satisfaction I sidestep, turning my body accordingly, but his kick clips my left hip and unbalancing me.

Seeing that neither of us has our guard up I muster all of my strength and wildly cut at his chest.

However due to my imbalance, the blade goes too high and allows him to easily duck under it.

A second later, a lightning fast sword comes towards my knees, threatening to snap them like twigs.

With no chance to block this in time I make a desperate attempt to jump the blade.

Though this saves my bones from breaking, his sword still hits the bottom of my feet, not resulting in any damage but sends me headfirst towards the ground.

Rolling onto my back, I realise my sword is lying a metre away from me.

Beginning to move towards it, the feeling of cold metal presses against my neck.

Dixon stood over me, without his usual cocky grin that accompanies him.

I guess it’ll all be settled on this final fight.