Azreon squinted his eyes against the sun as he charged Shaya, interfering with his accuracy. As he misjudged a swing, she countered with a heavy strike aimed at his head. Despite his disadvantage, he managed to deflect it so Shaya’s hammer only glanced off his helmet and then riposted with a slash to her lightly armoured legs. Shaya whirled her polehammer and parried the attack with the bottom of her haft.

The noble growled as his conjured blades bounced off Shaya’s ward, unable to support his offense or defense and fading a little more each time they tried. Shaya was thankful she had thought of it, as she couldn’t imagine facing Azreon and his whirling blades at the same time. His speed was unnatural and, despite her enhanced strength, he still managed to deflect her blows.

The struggle continued, the two skilled fighters flowing like quicksilver as they exchanged strikes and parries. Azreon’s attacks were relentless, his fury driving him into a reckless offense. Shaya hoped it would let her find more openings, but even with the polehammer she couldn’t land more than glancing blows against his mithrite plate. She fought defensively with every end of her weapon, even though most of her attacks amounted to little more than pushing him off-balance ever-so-slightly.

Shaya hoped to wear him out, given his heavier armour, but discarded that tactic after a minute of non-stop fighting.

“You’re a filthy coward,” he hissed at her as he attacked.

Her blood simmered at the insult, but she ignored it.

With everything she had endured, a spoiled brat trying to comment on her character was so ridiculous she actually laughed.

He growled and lunged at her. She deflected the thrust and riposted with a quick blow to the side of his head. He rolled with the blow, but she knew it would still leave a bruise and no small amount of pain. Each time he attacked, she countered with little strikes that caused minor injuries, but she didn’t escape without punishment. Azreon’s speed allowed his blade to dart past her defenses often, scoring the light-forged plates covering her more vulnerable arms and legs.

With a sigh, Shaya decided to pivot her strategy even further.

Azreon closed in again, taking hold of her polearm to push it out of the way, but she channeled all the Jade she could muster into the haft of her weapon. It extended explosively, throwing him off balance, and allowed her to drop the weapon, step in and kick him in the chest as hard as she could.

He managed to rake his sword across her leg despite his surprise and even landed on his feet after flying back several paces. Shaya cursed his wisdom in not resisting her blow, hoping that he would given how strong he seemed to be. She also hoped for a larger opening, perhaps even shooting the polearm into his chest like Una had tried against her, but had abandoned that idea given how quickly he rolled out of the way of her strikes.

The maneuver still gave her the opportunity to draw her sword, and Azreon hesitated for a moment as he saw the bared mithrite against him.

While mithrite couldn’t cut through other mithrite – at least not without weapon enchantments beyond her – her lighter weapon would let her keep up with his attack speed and respond better at close range.

She could also wield it one-handed, which she needed for her next ploy.

Shaya released the spells on her polearm and it shrunk back into its odd-looking axe on the ground. As she felt the circuits within her soul open, she traced another transmute wood spell on the haft of her sword to extend it.

Before she could channel the aether into it, however, Azreon launched another flurry of blows against her. With her attention split between casting and fighting, Shaya’s light-forged plates cracked under his assault. She barely managed to hold onto the spell and complete it.

“Typical barbarian, always underestimating your opponent,” he snarled as the hilt of her sword grew, “and using the same tricks again and again.”

Shaya snorted in response. “Typical dumbass, always using the same lines again and again. I guess I’ll just have to beat some wit into you.”

With her sword in two hands, she launched into her own offensive, still focusing on pain-causing injuries more than anything that could end the fight. Her blood thrilled at putting him on the back foot and Shaya had to keep it in check, lest her feint backfire on her. As she pressed her advantage, her attacks grew more reckless and left her more open.

Azreon saw one large opening and darted toward her with his blade.

Just as she had planned.

She pulled one hand off her sword and whirled around his blade, deflecting it. As he spun back toward her with a snarl, she snapped her cloak toward his face. With a burst of Jade, the barbs extended and raked him across the eyes. Azreon reeled back from the pain and choked back a cry that turned into a roar.

“You cheater!”

“What? You get to bring priceless platemail but I can’t use a simple cloak?” Shaya smirked.

Azreon fell back with warding slashes and Shaya pressed her advantage to rake more barbs into exposed joints and land a few more blows against his armour, even denting it in places from her magic-fueled strength. A soothing pulse of light from his esper told her that he finished casting a spell, and his sudden parries and ripostes confirmed he was using magic to ignore the pain.

Shaya smiled and fell into a defensive stance. One of Azreon’s eyes was swollen closed from the barbs stuck into his face, though his other seemed fine – and enraged. As he went on the offensive, Shaya watched the Ur’s barbs dig deeper into his flesh and dented armour chafe against his under armour.

With his spell up, Azreon didn’t seem to notice.

“Once I’m through with you,” he snarled, “I’m going to make sure to put that cripple of yours down.”

Her joy withered within seconds of his assault. Unable to feel pain, Azreon accepted more of her minor strikes to land heavier blows against her. Conjured armour cracked and shattered under his attacks and she winced as she felt his razor-edged blade slice into her arms and legs. She managed to keep the damage to a minimum, but realized she couldn’t keep this up.

“You clearly didn’t earn any of your achievements!” He ranted. “I'll get all the fools who conspired with you fired!”

Even in his anger, or perhaps because of it, Azreon simply hurled curses and insults as often as he did attacks, without pausing to grandstand or toy with her as much as she had hoped. Shaya concluded with a sigh that her plan to throw him emotionally off balance was too successful. That meant she would never have a moment’s peace to reconjure new armour, and that splitting her attention between casting and fighting again would result in a sudden, brutal death.

I need a more decisive resolution... she thought, mind scrambling through her contingency plans as her body fought by pure muscle memory, otherwise Azreon will just execute me when I get too worn out.

“Everyone will spit on your memory,” he continued, “and those of your friends!”

The crowd grumbled at his insults. Mind games were expected to a degree, but Azreon had pushed beyond what was expected for an ‘honourable’ duel. That was something Shaya could use.

Shaya growled in response, letting her blood simmer at the insult. She tried to go on the offensive, but Azreon deflected her attack and opened a deep gash in her arm. She roared in pain and anger as blood soaked through the padded armour on her bicep.

The rage promised to wash the pain away.

It promised her all the power she needed to destroy Azreon, forever.

To not dance around the issue any further, to not be shackled by the rules.

Shaya saw the smarmy grin in Azreon’s eyes and his attacks abated for a moment as he exulted in the rage overtaking her.

“The barbarian finally shows her true colours!” This time his voice carried out over the arena.

Shaya followed his gesture and her eyes spotted two people in the crowd she didn’t expect. Lumir, Rel and Krebo sat side by side, watching her duel and looking worried for her. She froze at the sight of them.

She never wanted them to see her like this. To never know just how bad she had it at the Academy, to worry them, or have them stress for her sake.

“Is that fear, coward?” Azreon taunted. “Do you regret your decisions now?”

No. Shaya thought, rage thundering through her blood.

She knew what she had to do to win.

With a roar, she charged Azreon and delivered a downward stroke with her sword, aiming to cleave his head in half. He side-stepped it with ease and slashed the same arm again, his attack surgical as Shaya’s right arm went limp below the elbow. She managed to surprise him with a ringing blow to the side of his leg using only one hand, crumpling the plate into his knee and causing him to stagger to the side.

She gave him a bloody grin as she followed up with another attack, but he parried it and his riposte shattered the light armour protecting her head. Their next exchange left her with a shallow gash across her brow, and the next shattered the light armour around her neck. Shaya absorbed punishment, ensuring that she never left herself open to a killing blow.

She needn’t have worried, at least not yet.

Containing her rage was difficult, especially as Azreon cooled off and turned to tormenting her. The blood in her veins demanded that she break the jaw emitting the endless stream of stupid, smarmy commentary. To sever every tendon he had cut on her, to go deeper and slash through bone and marrow. That to do anything less would allow him to kill her.

That his life was worthless, especially compared to her own.

Shaya wanted to let go and embrace the rage, but she knew she shouldn’t. She thought about what her mom would do in this situation and knew Phaedra would choose the more peaceful solution. To stay true to her word.

But Devi wouldn’t. From what she heard of her mother ever since her execution, she would’ve accepted Rea’s poison. Would have murdered Azreon long before this, before he ever became a threat to her. She would’ve done whatever it took to achieve the power she needed to enact the change she wanted to see in the world.

Azreon’s next blow took her in the back of the leg, the mithrite cutting through her padded armour like it wasn’t even there. Shaya fell to a knee, barely able to feel the pain through the anger coursing through her.