"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming..." Leon muttered lazily, slowly walking toward the spot where Greg was already waiting for him.
Greg stood firmly in the center of the training grounds, impatiently tapping the hilt of his sword with his fingers.
As Leon approached, he stopped just a few steps away and asked with a slight smirk:
"I didn't bring my sword. You wouldn't happen to have a spare one for me, would you?"
Greg's face twisted with irritation. Without a word, he turned to one of his followers and snapped:
"Bring him a sword."
A moment later, one of the men rushed over with a plain but solid-looking weapon. Greg grabbed it without hesitation and, with a grunt of effort, hurled it toward Leon.
The blade flew through the air with a sharp metallic whistle.
Leon caught it mid-air with ease, not even blinking. He inspected the sword briefly, then nodded to himself, clearly impressed.
"Honestly, I thought he'd hand me some rusty piece of junk... but this sword—yeah, this one's actually decent," Leon thought, swinging it a couple of times to get a feel for its weight and balance.
Then, with smooth precision, he stepped into a combat stance.
Greg mirrored the action, raising his blade in preparation.
At that moment, the referee stepped forward and raised his hand to draw their attention.
"The rules are simple," he began. "There are no restrictions in this duel. Both fighters are allowed to use magic of any level. That said..."
He gave Leon a meaningful look, his gaze sharp and pointed. "...let's make this a battle worthy of being called a duel between knights."
Leon responded with nothing more than an innocent smile, as if the implication hadn't even registered.
"They probably think I'm just some mediocre mage," Leon mused to himself. "Not that I can blame them. I've never shown my real abilities. Sure, I'm not strong enough to take down that boss monster from Gertrude's flute... but I've got more than enough magic to handle the lesser beasts under her control."
"Are both sides ready?" the referee asked, glancing between Greg and Leon.
They both nodded in agreement.
With a sharp motion, the referee raised his sword and shouted:
"Begin!"
Greg charged forward immediately, closing the distance in a heartbeat. His sword came down in a powerful arc, aimed straight at Leon.
Leon blocked the strike just in time, though the sheer force pushed him back a step.
"Well damn... the guy's got power, no doubt about that," Leon thought, eyeing him carefully. "I'll give him credit—he hits hard."
But in the very next instant, Leon went on the offensive. He launched into a flurry of rapid slashes, his sword slicing through the air with blinding speed.
Greg's eyes widened. He tried to defend himself, but even with his skill and magical enhancements, he couldn't block all of the strikes. A few light cuts appeared on his arms and sides—superficial, but still enough to sting.
Only thanks to his body-strengthening magic did the damage remain minor.
A short distance away, four others were watching the duel with surprise on their faces.
One of them, Chris—who prided himself on his swordsmanship—looked especially stunned.
"I doubt even I could block all of that..." he muttered under his breath, awestruck.
The others turned to him in disbelief.
Maria, meanwhile, let out a weary sigh.
"So... we're losing again. Good thing Greg has to pay Leon out of his own pocket and not mine," she thought, crossing her arms as she continued to observe.
Back in the arena, Greg exhaled heavily, squinting at Leon.
"So you're good even without armor, huh?"
"You think you're the only one who's been training since childhood?" Leon replied coldly. "Sure, maybe you're stronger than me physically. But in every other aspect... you're a child compared to me."
"My old man used to make me sleep with my sword. Said I had to know it better than my own heartbeat."
That last part clearly struck a nerve. Greg's face darkened with anger, and he launched himself at Leon again, this time striking even harder than before—each blow designed to break Leon's guard by sheer force.
But now Leon wasn't even trying to block with his blade. He dodged with smooth, effortless movements, like he'd already seen every attack coming.
He slipped around Greg's swings, sometimes delivering counterattacks—not with his sword, but with swift punches, kicks, and the occasional dirty trick. More than once, he bent down to grab a handful of dirt or a small rock and hurled it at Greg mid-combat.
Greg was fuming.
Frustrated beyond reason, he poured even more magic into his body, determined to land at least one solid hit.
"For once—just once—let me smash your skull in with full power!" he roared, chasing after Leon like a man possessed.
"You trying to kill me now?" Leon shot back, his voice filled with annoyance.
Then, after evading yet another of Greg's wild swings, Leon suddenly paused.
A mischievous look crossed his face as he muttered:
"Oh right... I can use magic too."
He dragged his sword across the ground, sending a burst of dust and debris into the air. The arena was instantly clouded in a thick veil of sand.
Leon disappeared into it.
Greg and the others watching from the sidelines stared at the swirling dust with tense anticipation, eyes fixed on the spot where Leon had been just a moment ago.
The real fight was only just beginning.