Osric didn't rush in again.
Not this time.
His stance stayed low—
More compact.
More deliberate.
His eyes didn't leave Garrick.
Not his face—
Not his body—
The spear.
'That's the problem.'
Every entry—
Every attempt—
Stopped before it even began.
Not because Garrick was faster—
But because he controlled the space between them.
Osric shifted his weight slightly.
His left arm raised—
Shield forward.
Not high.
Not defensive.
Positioned.
Testing.
Garrick's eyes flicked to it.
Brief.
But he noticed.
"…Better."
No movement yet.
But the atmosphere had changed.
Osric stepped in again—
Slower this time.
Measured.
The spear moved.
Same as before—
Straight.
Precise.
But this time—
Osric didn't avoid it.
He met it.
The wooden shaft struck against his shield with a sharp crack—
And slid off to the side.
For a moment—
He was inside.
Closer than before.
The closest yet.
The crowd reacted instantly.
"He got through!"
Osric stepped in—
Trying to capitalize—
But Garrick was already moving.
Not backward—
Sideways.
His footing shifted cleanly.
Minimal.
Efficient.
The distance opened again.
Just like that.
Gone.
Osric stopped.
Reset.
'…Not enough.'
Across from him—
Garrick's smile widened slightly.
"Good idea."
No mockery.
Just acknowledgment.
Osric didn't answer.
He moved again.
This time faster.
Shield leading.
More committed.
The spear came again—
But he pushed through it.
Redirecting it with his shield—
Forcing it off-line.
Closing the distance.
A step—
Then another—
He was inside again.
But—
Garrick's hand had already adjusted.
The shaft reversed direction—
Shorter.
Tighter.
Faster.
It struck against Osric's side.
Not heavy—
But clean.
Enough to stop him.
Again.
Osric stepped back.
Breathing steady.
But his eyes narrowed further.
'…He doesn't need distance.'
That was the difference.
Even when the range collapsed—
Garrick was still in control.
The spear wasn't just for distance.
It was part of him.
Osric circled again.
Faster now.
More active.
Trying to break the rhythm.
Trying to create something—
Anything—
Unpredictable.
He stepped in—
Then out—
Then cut sharply to the side—
A sudden angle—
Faster than before.
The spear followed.
Not rushed.
Not forced.
Just—
There.
Blocking the path before it fully formed.
Osric halted mid-step.
Again.
A faint exhale left him.
Not frustration—
Recognition.
'…He's ahead of me.'
Across from him—
Garrick finally stepped forward.
Just one step.
But it changed everything.
The pressure shifted.
Subtle—
But real.
"…Now you're thinking."
His grip on the spear tightened slightly.
His posture changed.
Less relaxed.
More present.
"Let's see how far that gets you."
Osric adjusted his stance.
Shield forward.
Weight balanced.
Eyes sharp.
He moved again.
And this time—
Garrick met him.
They closed the distance—
At the same time.
No hesitation.
No space left between them.
Garrick stepped in first.
For the first time since the spar began—
He wasn't just controlling.
He was engaging.
The spear moved differently now.
Shorter.
Tighter.
Faster.
No longer keeping Osric out—
But controlling him inside.
Osric saw it.
Felt it.
'Now.'
He moved—
Not clean.
Not calculated.
But sudden.
He forced his way through the line of the spear—
Shield pushing it aside—
Body slipping past—
Closer than ever before.
Inside.
Finally.
His sword came up—
A real opening.
A real chance.
William and Jayson reached.
"He got in!"
Osric committed—
A direct strike toward Garrick's side—
But—
Garrick was already there.
Not retreating.
Not surprised.
Waiting.
His grip shifted.
The spear shortened in his hands—
And snapped forward.
Not wide.
Not extended.
A tight thrust—
Driving straight into Osric's midsection.
Hard.
The air left his lungs instantly.
His strike stopped halfway.
His body froze—
Just for a moment.
And that was enough.
Garrick stepped through.
Closing the distance further—
Not letting him escape.
The shaft hooked against Osric's arm—
Controlling it—
Locking it in place.
A sharp twist—
Breaking his posture completely.
Osric tried to recover—
To move—
To reset—
But his balance was already gone.
Garrick's foot shifted behind his leg—
Subtle.
Precise.
A clean sweep—
And Osric hit the ground hard.
The impact echoed across the yard.
The noise behind them disappeared.
No cheers.
No shouting.
Just silence.
Everyone except for Franklin was surprised.
'Damn, he's skilled.' William thought.
'Shit. Sir Osric was so close!' Jayson believed.
Garrick stepped back.
Calm.
Breathing steady.
The spear lowered slightly.
He didn't follow up.
Didn't press.
Didn't need to.
"…That's enough."
Osric stayed on the ground for a second.
Breathing heavier now.
Not injured—
But stopped.
Cleanly.
Completely.
He exhaled once.
Then pushed himself up.
No frustration.
No anger.
Just—
Understanding.
'…So this is the difference.'
Across from him—
Garrick watched him closely.
Not smiling this time.
Serious.
Evaluating.
"You did well."
A pause.
Then—
"You forced your way in."
Another.
"But you treated it like a fight in the pit."
Osric didn't respond.
His grip on the wooden sword tightened slightly.
Garrick continued.
"Out there—"
He tapped the spear lightly against the ground.
"You don't get clean chances."
"You take them—or you get punished for trying."
Osric's gaze stayed steady.
Locked.
Absorbing it.
"Again?" Garrick asked.
No mockery.
No pressure.
Just a question.
Osric adjusted his stance.
Shield raised.
More controlled than before.
"…Again."
To the side, William exhaled with a chuckle. 'Guess my turn won't come anytime soon.'