Jake sighed deeply, staring at the wooden sword in his hand. He had tried explaining that he had no experience with sword fights, or any kind of fighting for that matter, but he was swiftly dismissed by insistence.

  Give the lord of the manor, what the lord of the manor wants…

  Asariel, on the other side, traced a circle on the ground. The glowing, circular magic ring expanded, surrounding them. Apart from his traumatic experience earlier that day, it was Jake’s first time seeing a showing of magic. He still found it difficult to wrap his head around.

  “Once our duel ends, this ring will negate any damage we might have inflicted on each other. This is purely for practice’s sake,” Asariel explained.

  Jake nodded.

  “Now, shall we begin?”

  Jake positioned himself, with the typical sword stance in mind. Back slightly lowered, feet about shoulder-width apart, and weight evenly distributed. If his defeat was predetermined, he wanted to at least make it his mission to not make a fool of himself.

  Meanwhile, the noble of similar age, stood tall and poised. He had the kind of fitness that could only come from a lifetime of conditioning. His right hand held the sword with a relaxed but firm grip, angling the blade upwards and at the ready. His left hand was positioned behind his back, adding an air of facility to his stance compared to Jake’s.

  Something tells me I’m not the main character of this fight…

  The nod that followed their long eye contact was all they needed. The fight began with Jake slowly creeping forward. The plan was simple.

  Footwork. Footwork. Footwork.

  His strongest, but only asset.

  Asariel’s eyes followed him as he slowly approached. No step left unsupervised, each and every one of them anticipated before being fully formed. Even after Jake’s sudden dash which was executed with a burst of incredible speed, his eyes did not falter and continued to follow him seamlessly. Zero hint of surprise and still zero lower body movement. As Jake lunged forward, aiming for a quick strike to the right abdomen, he finally noted a subtle shift in Asariel’s hand.

  Bingo.

  Jake immediately adjusted his strike to the left abdomen.

  However, the harsh reality struck Jake as Asariel effortlessly parried the attack with the flick of his wrist. In one fluid motion, he reversed Jake’s movement, striking the wooden sword’s hilt into his esophagus with staggering force. Jake’s breath was caught in his throat as the pain erupted through him. He crumpled to the ground, gasping and coughing violently.

  Asariel knelt besides him, offering a hand. “There there, the pain will soon pass.”

  He was sprawled out and defeated so easily. Jake took Asariel’s hand, unsteadily rising to his feet. He brushed off his clothes, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.

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  Nice, I made a fool of myself.

  “Again,” Jake demanded, completely disregarding whether it was rude or not.

  Asariel’s expression was unreadable, but he nodded. “Very well.”

  They took their positions once more. This time, Jake was well aware of his empty arsenal. He had exhausted his only asset and Asariel would no doubt be prepared for it, not that it would have worked anyways.

  Fine, new plan. I’ll take his head.

  Another simple nod and the spar was restarted. Asariel’s stance shifted, and suddenly, the dynamics of the duel changed. He went on the offensive, his strikes controlled yet unforgiving. Jake found himself retreating, unable to replicate Asariel’s composure from the previous round. Despite the pressure, he kept his focus on his plan. Every now and then, he would attempt a strike at Asariel’s head, mixed in with normal ones, hoping to catch him off guard. But no matter how hard he tried, Asariel’s head game was impeccable. He ducked, sidestepped, and weaved around every one of Jake’s attempts with pure grace. Each time Jake thought he had an opening, Asariel would counter with a swift swing, forcing him back on the defensive. It was slowly becoming apparent that Jake was unfit to keep up with Asariel’s momentum or rhythm. Yet, he could see the subtle hints of Asariel holding back, guiding him rather than overpowering him.

  As the duel continued, Jake’s strikes became more desperate, more daring. He lunged for the head, again, again, and again, only for them to be effortlessly deflected each time. Each deflection carried a clear message: not good enough.

  Gritting his teeth, Jake hopped backwards and circled Asariel, looking for any possible weakness.

  Nothing to turn the tide, as expected.

  Realizing no possible high attack would be enough, Jake stopped a short distance away from Asariel and lifted his sword, signaling that he was en garde and ready.

  One more.

  Asariel accepted his invitation and made his way forward.

  There!

  Jake hurled the sword like a javelin towards Asariel. The former of which eyes widened as the thrown sword flew his way and slammed his weapon out of his hand. They both watched as the swords clattered to the ground a few feet away. Jake stood there, breathing heavily, his chest heaving with exertion.

  “Draw?” he gasped, barely able to get the word out.

  Asariel, in a confused state, was unable to respond.

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  Asariel’s expression softened into amusement as he couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, draw.” he said, clapping his hands with delight and perhaps even respect, as the circular ring disappeared allowing Jake’s pain to be alleviated .

  Jake sighed with relief. Having exploited the lack of prearranged agreement on the limits of their sparring match, he feared Asariel would take offense at the unsportsmanlike move, but quite the contrary, Asariel seemed to be a good sport.

  Grabbing both fallen swords, Asariel continued to smile. “You have potential, Jake. Your footwork is excellent and your physical condition is remarkable.”

  Asariel was right. Jake’s physical condition was good, too good. His body was well-toned, his muscles were well-defined, and his lean frame allowed him to move and carry himself smoothly. Deep inside, however, Jake knew the truth. The body that currently held his face, the body that held the very same birthmark he’s always had on his left shoulder blade. That body… was not his.

  “You’re a natural, but lack the experience and technique. I have an offer for you,” Asariel continued. “The Magic Corp’s Esterrosian Branch. A guild of over a hundred men I’ve recruited throughout the past few years. In a week from now, the annual Trial will be held. Join us.”

  Jake hesitated, it was clear he had no plans of accepting such a monumental commitment, everything was all too new to him. He was simply not cut out for it.

  Asariel’s expression turned serious, his tone changing. “Jake, whether it’s tomorrow or a decade from now, the 05 council will come after you.” He said, laying his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “And the truth is, I will be unable to protect you. I know what being hounded like a dog does to the best of us, but when that moment comes, I want you to be one of the good guys… one of us, no matter how hard it gets. I can see your magical potential, you are no doubt the strongest I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’ll be your mentor… I’ll guide you to the heavens.”

  The heavens huh…

  Jake snickered, “I’m in.”