Oh, how these things tended to escalate. Sten had forgotten how very different things were here in the capital in certain ways, and this was not what he had had in mind when heading deeper into this. He’s aware what someone of her experience and connections could be worth to an outsider [Guild], newly arrived. The honeypot to draw us in.

It is undeniably true that iron sharpens iron, and even if this girl was a true rare talent honed by the competition to be found here, Sten had been thinking Oscar could stand a defeat or two. He could tell she was new to her Class. Such stakes were affordable, and now before they headed to the north was as good a time as any to fight new opponents often and readily. It was just that this was not at all what he’d had in mind.

But now they had talked a big game, and the man had called their bluff. “The standard should do fine, a working contract, the full three years. The loser will work for the winning [Guild]. Full Kumite sparring, to first proper blood, we both provide a healer in case both are injured.”

When Sten was looking like he was getting left behind, and was about to use that as an excuse, he clarified: “I can arrange for us to lend two from the militia,”

Sten’s [Cerebral Negotiations] had told him the man did not rate his daughter very highly, not with anywhere near the respect Sten held for Oscar. Which meant either he had a much higher standard for his martial arts, which was possible if he belonged to the elite, he was Dormatian after all. Or he was underestimating Salcret, which was a lot more likely.

The solution Sten had been nudged into by his Skill was also making another suspicion loom; if his daughter lost he would probably either buy her out of it, or he would give them a replacement.

While they would lose Oscar, for three years of service.

Three things made Sten decide to take the risk, despite his usual reluctance to gamble: The man was clearly getting pressured into this by his daughter, he had not planned for this to happen at all. The second thing was that despite Oscar being tired he looked eager, if not downright hungry for the fight, while he was clearly being underestimated due to the disadvantage in size and background both.

The third was that Sten was actually starting to put Livia on a bit of a pedestal, and he was convinced having Oscar in a [Guild] in Dormata, learning the ins and outs of their organisation and building his Skills there, even if he had to be away from them... Somehow she’d be able to turn even that into an advantage, or else buy him back if they worked hard enough.

Yes. If it went to hell then Sten would atone, but in the moment he just wanted to shut this smug Finn right up and unleash Oscar on the unsuspecting teenager who thought her mercenary family was such hot stuff.

“Agreed. Let them settle it in a ring then, to first fatal blood with healers on standby making the call; and the loser serving the victorious [Guild] for the standard three,”

Sten gave him a solid clasp of hands.

Come risk come levels.

The man went to arrange everything with the militia’s intstructors in charge of the day’s training–while the excited onlookers hugging the wall who had followed the exchange from start to finish went to spread the word.

They loved their high-stakes matches around here. It was what the Arena was built for.

It took an hour until they stood ready to start, but Sten went to find Oscar a stamina tincture commonly sold by the vendors outside in the meantime. He also found one of the fellows in the crowd who’d decided to take a risk betting on the bumpkin and who did not mind sharing some info to improve his odds: It turns out the family was led by that man, who was a father of several grown children and had a twenty or some such fighters on his payroll, both [Gladiator]s who competed in the games, and other Classes for security contract work, or the odd adventurer mission.

The daughter was called Moa, and she’d been coming to the arena for the past year, after having been previously trained at home. She was considered tough, if rough around the edges; and she’d gotten her Class this past week, a generic [Warrior] Class, far as he could tell, but likely a family variation.

Learning at least something of his opponent did plenty to calm Oscar down from the nightmare scenarios trying to undermine his confidence, he had been getting used to fighting people with Classes for the past year after all; this was bound to be easier, so he would be able to lean hard on that experience. Not to mention how all three of his main sparring partners were monsters, each of them in different ways.

Then Sten gave the [Squire] the advice that he’d been given himself on the day of his first fight: “Don’t let any pain stop you, the healers have seen a hundred of these fights and will step in before you know it if you stop fighting for even a second where she can take advantage for something fatal, they won't even wait for it to land. And go harder when she expects you to slow, trust your constitution.”

Oscar looked nervous, and his heart was trying to race away from him, but Sten saw him close his eyes and take control of it.

They would be fighting with their real weapons, and Oscar should have the advantage, especially for as long as the true edge remained hidden.

Besides that he had only his shield. He’d been offered a standard training suit of padded leather, but did not want to slow down faster than he expected from the unfamiliar weight, and so he fought in nothing but his training clothes.

An old man stepped onto the platform, and a woman who looked to be his counterpart stepped onto the other side, giving their fighters a nod each.

Five seconds later the fight began.

Moa had been trained by Sammael, their father’s [Armsmaster] for the past three years, and even before that she’d learned to handle a sword, spear and bow as part of her learning how to run and balance a company.

Moa was her father’s only daughter, and she hated being treated like it. Especially because it was at their mother's insistence, and she could tell their father despised it. He had tried treating her differently like her mother wanted, but he still needed her for expanding his ambition and so he compromised, like she should learn to be a manager and act the veteran from the start, and not have to go through the true rigours of mercenary life; her mother somehow remained in denial of how this could not work, seemingly expecting her to gain respect and strength from levels alone somehow. Like such shallow leaders would ever pass the smelltest among true veterans, who needed to only feint an attack and watch you flinch to take your measure.

It had taken another few years of being average in the training yard, but he’d finally been convinced she should do it like the others had, if only behind her mothers back.

But that was in word alone so far, not yet in deed.

So far he was still here, treating her with kid gloves.

Now he even doubted her against this country bumpkin; if she lost he’d delay her facing proper challenges for years yet again, and her mother would have a whole new set of arguments of how she needed to focus where her true managerial talents lie… Without ever having explored her martial talents in the first place. I’ll prove I have the id, the savagery inside. Here and now.

She was a [Marauding Warrior], as her siblings had been.

Six months they’d delayed, despite her being eligible. Trying to make her choose [Battle Handler] just because they'd paid for the method to get it, arguing how it was an officer Class when every idiot knew it was tied directly to logistics, and all despite her having a great warrior’s Aspirant Skill on offer in their family Class in the form of [Impactful Edge] at a staggering Tier 6.

Her father claimed it did not matter on the battlefield what Aspirant Skill you'd had, such rumours were nothing but the comforting bubbles of fools apparently. But Moa knew it would have mattered had it been her brother, who was ‘meant’ for such a Class.

And it was even harder to accept when all her friends had been so impressed; but Moa knew deep down they were second-rate fighters at best. She was different, her whole family was; in part thanks to her father, yes. But Moa was aiming for the top too, no matter how her father wanted her to treat it all like a business.

At least he acquiesced now, finally showing some confidence in her handling this Folkung kid from the frontier towns... They may well be tough out there but they were more used to handling bear and ant attacks than fighting duels against properly trained warriors. It was known; she would show him the difference from the first minute.

The healers to the sides dropped their arms and Moa wasted no time burning a Skill for the chance at seizing the initiative; her sword arm leading the way, and with her shield angling for a spot to stab down with the serrated edge on the bottom, hoping to draw blood or at least disrupt his footwork.

[Pivotal Leap] sent her straight at him like she was on a string, arm outstretched to lance him through on her pass. And as expected he dodged; but what was unexpected was how he refused to stray from her swordside into her waiting shield–instead he dropped his sword.

The split second that her surprise interrupted her thoughts made her swing miss, and she also missed how he’d tossed it at her side, all she saw was how he moved with the sword parallel and acting as if on its own volition back to his hand–nudging her own attack out of the way–making his sidestep successful instead of allowing her to impale his arm.

She’d overreached, he had an angle on her now, and he swung hard with his steel sword–but she was not yet out of Skills: she had been lucky enough to gain four active ones, despite not having even reached a capstone yet.

She used her tier 2 to parry what she did not even see: [Deflect Cut]

His own sword returning at him almost made Oscar lose the first blood advantage, but luckily her deflection only lost him a few hairs. But it was enough for her to regain her footing and turn back into him.

She was slightly taller, and she used his leaning back to ram her shield onto his in order to push it out of the way–but that’s when something neither of them expected happened. The two shields locked together, like they were magnetic; Moa saw the surprise on his face and surmised he hadn’t used a Skill, if he had then he’d failed completely at taking advantage.

But their locked on shields made it difficult to keep using their footwork; somehow she had been losing that battle against a boy the same age for the first time, so she decided it did not matter and kept pushing.

Their swords both rang as they rained blows over the sudden wall separating the two, but Oscar was the first to try for the legs: As if she had not been anticipating it.

He hauled the sword down, but she cut downwards as well; going so far as activating her trump card [Impactful Edge], despite how it may well decapitate the leg. The healers were on standby to reattach: It was now or never.

Somehow his move was a feint, despite how she’d seen him drop down that same way earlier; he heaved on the shield like he was going for a toss if she held on, and she defended desperately, hauling backwards to make it heavy–so he let his shield go completely.

The sudden absence of weight made her stumble but failed to make her fall, but he still had his sword. She deflected another cut desperately and dropped the two shields, but somehow she missed his blade in her haste–it seemed to pass right through.

He cut her arm to the bone.

Moa couldn’t help but cry out from the intensity of the pain and fell back, but he was on her like a bloodhound.

She made space by kicking him off her and making a desperate thrust after she managed to switch her sword to the functional arm she had left, but she was in a panic from the strength draining so swiftly out of her vital sword arm.

Oscar hesitated for only a second before he was back on her, prodding for weakness, as the healers had yet to call off the fight.

She defended well, but he caught her leg and finally brought her down.

She was supine and looking up at him as he kept striking, with one arm nearly too numb to move; she still defended admirably with her remaining limbs, and it was awkward striking down at someone like this, even when you struck the occasional wound.

But there was only one answer; push harder, and faster.

Moa was desperate but managed to retain her composure, despite how she was leaking strength like a sieve–her second surge of adrenaline was making it all secondary.

Thankfully her attacker’s breath was ragged, and she recalled how he’d fought to the point of collapsing earlier. If I can just hang on.

The second he slowed she stabbed up with all her remaining swiftness; and he backed off enough for her to get a proper kick in on his chest.

When they were both back up he was forced to slow down and recover for a second; so Moa did something that went against her every instinct, but which her father had taught her how to use. She closed her eyes, and thought of the most vital moments of the combat she had just endured.

It was so insane that Oscar actually failed to take advantage this time.

When she opened her eyes back up the System rewarded her boldness:

[Level 3: Marauding Warrior]

They had been fighting for 2 hours now. Sten did not understand how such low level people could keep going like this; like they were professional fighters brawling on some empowering brew ensuring they fought on to the death.

Yes, the stakes were high, but their bodies should have failed them long ago. Even her father was looking at her differently, it seemed like.

Sten could only surmise that Livia’s Skills were more empowering than they’d previously understood. And the girl’s family must have some secrets of their own.

It was not that they were that technically sound, or even strong.

But somehow, despite slowing down and speeding up and slowing down over the course of hours; they were clearly still both thinking of new ways to beat each other. When they should have been past the point of their minds working, relying on nothing but muscle memory to seal the deal; they were still laying traps instead.

Sten was doing what he could to help. Despite talking gibberish, he was hoping it would somehow confuse her; if she was even hearing him. “Yes, the Zweihander again, 1-2 then a Zwei, from above!”

They kept fighting, not reacting. “A pivot, then the hook, if she backs off two steps behind you is the shield!”

They had ignored the hunks of iron for hours, Sten had even lost track of where hers went: But Oscar had a chance to gain an edge back if he could get it.

This time Oscar seemed to hear him and actually listened.

The girl swayed back, he leapt for his shield and… He found it was too heavy, he was too tired, he used his whole body to lift but still didn’t make it back up before she was on him with a desperate Skill of her own: The same [Pivotal Leap] she’d opened with.

Sten shouted one word: “Sweep!”

The [Squire] was still crouched, but he somehow dared drop his sword grab on–then managed a sacrifice throw as her sword almost impaled him, but instead simply ruptured his arm like a sausage in the pan, slicing him the long way right as he tossed her.

He fell back, but she fell back harder. All the way off the platform in fact; and she landed heavily and in a heap.

Oscar was lying there, bleeding badly but he still had the strength to hold his arm tight to his body and stem the massive haemorrhage; he looked to the healers for signs of his win. They looked on like statues, used to seeing far worse on the battlefields before the target was a true priority getting admitted before other wounded.

This was a kumite spar; the closest to reality a fight in the Arena ever got. The closest the System would allow before administering punishment for murder.

Moa stirred, she’d broken at least one side of ribs when she landed, and even her arm was angled funny, but her eyes blazed when she returned to her feet.

And there was no such mercy here as a ring out.

Oscar got up desperately, and they stared each other down. Then she closed her eyes again, and Oscar couldn’t believe it. Is she forcing ideas by looking in the abyss, what could she possibly be thinking?

Oscar was too exhausted to think straight. He decided to try it too.

When he opened his eyes back up a surge of vitality sped through his body, as his spirit was lifted by the distracting words.

[Level 4: Sentinel Squire]

He was just in time. Moa leaped back up and at him with [Pivotal Leap], and apparently her Skill could send her rising through the air in more ways than straight lines, or else she was bending it to her will with the force of the moment, refusing to accept her limitations.

So Oscar did what only a fool would do unless they had his Skill; he threw his exalted sword right at her, and her forward momentum made its keen edge slide right past her ribs to puncture a lung.

She lost only a tad of her momentum–but even worse–she lost some balance. She fought through the pain and still swung at him, but his arm was ready and he caught her, throwing her to the ground behind him, making his sword clatter away, and landing on top with the very last of his energy.

Then he had her trapped with all his weight, and despite how it must hurt tremendously with the state of her ribs and torso, she struggled on; right until his sword came slowly sliding to his hand from where it dropped, with the last bit of his energy; and he placed it against her neck, gently.

The crowd cheered; but none more than Sten.

A sparring session was turned into Oscar making a spectacle of himself, as per usual when you gave him a new challenge to take on. I did it, I can't believe it, I won, somehow I won.

"I WON!?"

"You did it, you won!" Sten's was far from the only voice, but it was the one Oscar heard.

But what surprised Sten the most was the consolidation he himself was struck with, it occurred a mere hour later as they finally finished cleaning Oscar up after the healing, with the help of a militia man who brought them down to the Arena's bowels, as he had apparently gotten lucky on the result of the fight.

Then once Oscar was ready to walk again, they returned straight to the Legume and the meeting about Jane which they would probably be late for. It would be hard for anyone to claim it had not been worth it.

Not only Oscar had gotten away with some tremendous gains, Sten was finally catching up too.

[Level 10: Naturalborn Pugilist]

[Skill Granted: Ductile Ligaments]

[Skill Granted: Hurricane Kick]

[Skill Upgrade: Weighted Footwork -> Dynamic Tricking]

[Skill Granted: Muscle Memory Catalogue]