Before he knew it, it was time for the fall festival. A few weeks back, he had run into Rose at her parents’ tavern and asked her to attend it with him, so they could catch up. She had agreed and made sure to make time for the main day when most stages would contain a show of some kind.

  Since then, Lios had been eagerly awaiting the day, with his normal routines feeling like they had been dunked in molasses. He hadn’t fully realized how much he was missing his friend. In the past few months since he had been trained by Darren, Lios had run into several of his other childhood friends as well. Keagan, Ralphy, and Ento had just joined the Iron Tigers as a warrior trio and now had a ranger and a mage in their party.

  They were still low leveled and, as such, only took on low-level quests, but it was nice to see they had stuck with their training. Given they were only thirteen at the high end, he was suitably surprised they had all met the requirements to join.

  After Darren had allowed Lios to start smithing, even if it was only horseshoes and nails, the boy had stopped working at the barracks to work full time as an apprentice. His class skills and level were leveling much slower now as well, needing him to get some real combat experience, but he didn’t mind. His first priority was his foundation. Once that was set like concrete, he could further pursue levels and power.

  And so, the day came when he met Rose at her home. He stood waiting outside with a dark grey fox by his side, tentatively sniffing at the flowers and weeds growing in her parents’ garden, and a lighter colored one resting on his shoulder. The two were pretty large now, but Sky was light enough, and Lios strong enough, that her riding on him was no issue. He did wind up making some shoulder pads with scrap leather from the smithy to protect himself from her claws though. He wore them under his tunic.

  “Rosalie, your friend is here!” A voice rang out from inside the abode after a curtain twitched behind the window.

  “I’m coming, hold your horses!” Rose’s voice was muffled by the walls and door but made Lios smile at the sound. He heard a thud and a few muffled grunts, some chatter, then the door swung open and his friend emerged. She had gone all out with her outfit, wearing a frilly green dress, brown boots that came up to the middle of her calf. A brown corset separated the green of her dress from the white of a poofy long-sleeved shirt. In her orange hair, mildly bleached from time spent in the sun, a flower crown rested. Slung over her back was her beloved lute, a beaten and used and loved instrument.

  Lios lit up at the sight of her, grinning as she rushed forward and gave him a hug before separating to give some attention to Luka and Sky. “Shall we then?” Lios asked and held out an arm for her to take. Giggling, she took it and leaned against him a bit.

  She was a little taller than he was, especially in her boots. As they walked away to head into the city proper, Rose’s mother called out. “Be home before twilight, Rosalie, or I swear I won’t let you go out again!” Rose waved her off and sighed beside Lios.

  They walked for a bit, the crunch of leaves and gravel beneath their boots accompanied by the occasional chatter of the foxes or the buzz of insects. After about fifteen minutes and as they approached the gates, Lios spoke up. “I’m really glad we were able to do this. We haven't really talked since our classes... Do your parents know?”

  Rose was quiet for a minute, chewing her cheek, then she turned abruptly and stopped Lios. “Yeah, they figured it out. They weren’t nearly as angry as I expected, but they were disappointed. My mom thinks you're a bad influence on me.”

  “Little ol me?” Lios played aghast, feigning hurt as he clutched his chest playfully. “I ‘spose I’m not the best influence but they hardly know me.”

  “They think they know enough. But we don’t need to talk about all that today; let’s just have fun!” With that, she took off on an excited run, boots clacking against the cobblestones. Lios followed behind eagerly.

  The duo darted through the city streets, foxes hot on their heels. Adults turned to watch the spectacle and smiled as they witnessed children playing, seemingly chased by animals they had seen or met over the past months. A few called out to the pair, recognizing Lios from the smithy and barracks, from his time wandering the city with his mother. They recognized Rose as well from her time in the tavern, and from the sounds of her lute and angelic voice whenever she found a free moment to practice her craft.

  They weaved between folks on the bustling streets, laughing exuberantly, until they reached the market square where most of the festivities would be held. Several stages dotted the square, held on the edges near some of the older stone buildings and stores. A caravan of merchants took up the rest of the space, hawking wares and showing off their specialties. Autumn decorations filled the city. Pumpkins and wreaths of freshly fallen colorful leaves hung all over the place. Candles and lanterns lit up the area, preparing for the early sunset.

  The two slowed as they approached the center of the square, where a fountain had been erected in the past few years, as Arborton continued to grow. It served as a sort of job board, with a number of jobs and adventurer requests posted to it on one side. The Iron Tigers guild had a more official jobs board, but for the folk who couldn’t afford their fees, the fountain was a decent place to advertise the work they needed done. According to Ezekiel, the town was working to set up a more permanent adventure board but had yet to agree on a place. Evidently, the leader of the Iron Tigers, Matthias Penrose, was being extremely vocal and insisting that they only use his guild for such things.

  Returning to a much more reasonable pace, with Rose a bit out of breath and Lios barely breaking a sweat in the cool air, they took in the smells of autumn that wafted through the air. The scent of spices and baked goods entered their noses and made them both salivate. Meats and candied snacks were cooking all around the perimeter of the square, and both of their mouths began to water.

  They exchanged a glance before Lios pulled at his coin pouch idly. “Snacks first? Then a show?”

  Rose nodded, and they headed toward a nearby vendor. A few copper coins lighter, candied pork belly on skewers were soon in their hands. Lios also bought some un-candied meat for his furry friends before they made their way over to the first stage. Dancers flitted about the stage in revealing outfits as a magician created various effects around them. From their angle, it was difficult to tell if it was an illusion or more physical magic, but it made for a pretty show. Someone else played music for the dancers, though they were unseen, likely behind the stage.

  Rose and Lios went from stall to stage to stall, spending some of their hard-earned coin and enjoying each other's company as they talked about all that was new in their lives. Rose pointedly didn’t speak about Ethan, her supposed betrothed, and Lios didn’t press her on it. He asked a few questions, but the answers were terse and frustrated.

  It helped that he already knew her opinions on the matter. He knew she didn’t want to be tied down to someone already, and that she didn’t particularly like him. That much was evident from her scowl whenever the lad was brought up. Her engagement wasn’t set in stone yet, but it seemed Ethan and his father were adamant that she should be his wife someday. Technically, they couldn’t be wed until she turned fifteen at the earliest, though most traditions leaned closer to sixteen. It still felt a bit young to Lios, who had had the luxury of growing up in a country that encouraged freedom for all and placed limits on marital age.

  Aside from that, Lios learned that she had begun playing at the tavern every so often, just about once a week. Adventurers and townsfolk had started to come to the inn just to hear her, which her parents were both surprised by and excited for. They had been making far more sales of late, and their daughter had been a heavy contributor.

  After she spoke about that, Lios talked about working in the smithy and complained about having much less time to devote to sword training and magic. On the other side, he mentioned some of the struggles of raising Luka and Sky, how having to work cut into time he could dedicate to them. Of course, they didn’t need constant attention, and Elaine was around often, but he still wished he could give them more of his time.

  “They seem fine though! Both of them are such good little foxes!” Rose highlighted this by having them each spin around for a snack, showing off one of the tricks Lios had successfully taught them.

  This inspired a timid-looking little girl to approach, asking to pet the foxes, to which Lios readily agreed. The furry animals were friendly and social as it got, loving the attention from anyone who would give it. As she got to pet them, though, several other kids flocked over to rain adoration on the adorable pets.

  After about half an hour of answering questions about the kits, letting kids play with them, and talking to their parents a bit, Lios and Rose made their escape. They rushed to the side where a small crowd was gathering, a stage the focus of their attention. On either side of it, a banner was erected. Silver trim boxed in the image of a silver and black tiger, pouncing up toward a fleeing crow. The banner of the Iron Tigers, showing their perceived strength as predators. Even those above them could be brought to the ground by a tiger.

  On the stage, a pair of armored teens faced off. One had a sword and a shield, while the other had a spear. They were both a little clumsy, clearly still at the beginning of their adventuring careers, but they fought well. In the end, the swordsman won by deflecting the spear to the side and pointing the tip of his blade at the other's neck.

  Lios clapped politely when the proctor, a higher-level adventurer by the looks, called an end to the spar. Just as Lios and Rose were getting ready to turn away, he caught sight of two of his friends preparing to take the stage, and so the two stayed. They still had a bit of their latest snack left — a skewer of candied fruit that tasted like an ultra-sugary melon.

  “And now, a demonstration from two more of our newer adventurers! Welcome Ento and Ralph to the stage! These two brave swordsmen are shining examples of the results of endless training and the drive to become great!”

  Ento was even bigger than before, almost devoid of baby fat. He was only as old as Rose and yet looked around fourteen. It almost looked as though facial hair would start growing soon. Ralphy, on the other hand, was still small, smaller than Lios despite being a year older. He was lithe like a mountain cat as opposed to imposing like a rhino, a sentiment Ento embodied easily.

  Both boys looked embarrassed by the embellishment as they took opposite ends of the stage. The proctor stepped back to get out of the way, and the boys drew their swords. It was quite the contrast. Ento was wielding a massive great sword, a weapon that would be unusable on Earth, but here on Ravos, stats could help. It wasn’t quite as large as Cloud Strifes, but it was close. The balde was easily as tall as it’s weilder and as wide as two fists side by side. Ralphy, on the other hand, drew a rapier with a slick motion, pointing it before him. His embarrassment faded as the young boy prepared to fight. His sword a much more normal size required little effort to weild.

  A moment later and both of them sprang into motion. Ento leaped forward and slashed downward with a speed that should have been impossible wielding a sword that size. Ralphy dodged handily, darting to the side and aiming a thrust at Ento's unprotected side.

  “You’ll have ta try harder than that!” Ento called out tauntingly, somehow managing to intercept the strike with the broadside of his weapon. Sparks flew from the tip of Ralphy's rapier, showering the wooden stage.

  “Trying to impress the girls with your stuffy smack talk again?” Ralphy teased back, moving in a blur and slashing at the larger teen.

  They called out a few more taunts as they clashed, each meeting feeling impossible for a number of reasons. Ralphy parried and diverted the massive sword with his dainty one several times, a feat that didn’t seem realistic when comparing the size of both the combatants and the weapons. Ento, on the other hand, either dodged or blocked the smaller boys rapier, despite Ralphy being clearly faster than the larger teen.

  Unlike the first fight, these two had clearly been practicing and honing their skills. Their movements were a little sloppy on account of their age and overall lack of experience, but they weren’t all that clumsy. In fact, they moved better than most adults. Lios could see the moves he taught the boys on top of techniques they must have learned later. The clash of steel on steel rang loudly in the plaza, drawing even more watchers.

  In the end though, one of the fighters had a clear advantage. As the fight continued, Ento began to slow. The strain of heaving his heavy weapon all over the stage, of dodging and intercepting Ralphy's bee-like jabs, was getting to him. He stumbled while dodging another thrust, his shoulder catching the tip of the blade. Blood splattered on the stage.

  He hesitantly backed away, Ralphy looking surprised to have finally landed a blow before hardening his expression and pressing forward. He didn’t land another blow for several exchanges, but after a minute Ento had a new gash on his upper thigh. A few moments after that and a graze appeared on his left cheek. Finally, both panting and dripping sweat, Ralphy’s sword was pressed up against Ento’s chest, right where the teen’s heart sat beating rapidly.

  There was a stunned silence. The fight had drawn quite a crowd, with several off-duty guards watching with rapt attention. Then, a slow clap quickly escalated, dozens of adults cheering for Lios’s friends’ performance. Both looked flushed both from the exertion and the attention, and stood awkwardly accepting the applause.

  A few moments later and they had been replaced by another duo, this time a pair of mages who were readying to face each other. As Ento and Ralphy climbed down the stairs of the stage, they caught sight of Lios and Rose. Soon, the four were standing together waiting in line to acquire yet another snack.

  What’s the point of working out every day if I don’t gorge myself sometimes? Lios thought to himself as the four chatted and caught up. Ralphy held Luka in his arms and was currently trying to avoid the foxes wet tongue. Luka was a bit of a licker and an absolute menace until he got his way.

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  Before long, the party had returned to the guild’s stage to watch a few more battles.

  “By the way, Lios, do ya plan to participate in the challenges?” Ento asked while trying to eat the leg of some oversized bird, grease dripping down the teen’s face.

  “Challenges?” Lios asked, perplexed.

  “The guild is opening the stage up to challengers after the next few fights! I bet you would crush it! I even heard you've already picked a class.” Ento rambled off, glancing over at Rose knowingly.

  “Ah, Well I wasn’t prepared to fight so - “

  “Aw, is the widdle blacksmith scawed to fight?” An irritating voice called out behind Lios. One he recognized despite having heard it only once before.

  “I wouldn’t say I'm scared to fight. More scared of hurting someone.” Lios replied, attempting to remain amiable despite the rotten taste that came with Ethan's appearance.

  As he turned to face the older boy, he noted two cronies had joined him. All three wore blue armor, likely attempting to match as a party. Looking at the metal, Lios figured it cost a pretty penny. He had watched as Darren prepared at least one of the sets.

  “Ah, there you are, Rosalie! I thought I told you not to talk with the smith boy anymore?” Ethan commented with a miserable smirk on his pompous face.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I had to follow your orders before we got married. Wait, I don’t. Besides, I kept telling you Lios is just a friend.” Rose’s pink cheeks flushed red and her eyes narrowed.

  Ethan's smirk turned to a snarl as he aggressively reached forward to grab her wrist, the two teens behind him stepping forward at the same time. Rose darted back, just barely dodging the motion as Lios stepped in front of her protectively. Ento and Ralphy looked shocked at the exchange and, despite seeming to want to, made no effort to defend Rose. Ralphy in particular was white knuckling the hilt of his rapier. Ento’s fists were clenched as well, but both remained silent and even stepped back.

  “Step back, smith, my business is with my betrothed.” Ethan growled under his breath, stepping close to Lios. “Rosalie, I thought you said you were busy when I asked you to attend this festival with me?”

  “Right, I had already agreed to come with Lios today. I would have invited you as well, but I knew you didn’t get along.” She gritted her teeth a bit as she spoke.

  When Lios didn’t move, despite Ethan stepping closer, the older boy attempted to shove him out of the way. Lios didn’t budge, though he acknowledged the force Ethan was able to exert. “Out of my way, peasant.”

  “I refuse. Let's just go our separate ways and enjoy the rest of the evening, shall we?” The apprentice smith looked back to Rose, smiling gently at her. She nodded her assent, and Lios made to turn away, to leave the crowd with her.

  With that motion, he noticed many of the onlookers had turned from the stage and were now watching the minor conflict in the crowd. At the same time that he tried to pull away from the budding conflict, he heard the familiar shing of metal being drawn out of a sheath. With a deep breath, he turned to see that Ethan had drawn his sword.

  “You dare turn your back on me, peasant? I, Ethan Penrose, challenge you to a duel!” Ethan's voice alerted even those on the stage to the conflict. His previous derision was replaced with a noble visage, as though he were saying that Lios was in the wrong rather than him.

  “Oh? You wish to challenge this humble smith? I will need a blade if we are to duel.” Lios turned fully to face the guild member. At the same time, a path opened in the crowd to the stage.

  “You all heard it, folks. Our esteemed Ethan has challenged another boy to a duel! Let us make space for them on the stage and welcome them with our heartfelt applause!” The proctor called out. His eyes didn’t follow his words; they glared at Ethan such that Lios almost felt he could read the man's thoughts. Of course you’d make a spectacle, the look seemed to say.

  “Sorry, Rose, looks like I haven’t got a choice this time.” Lios offered before following Ethan up to the stage. As he climbed the steps, a guild member drew a sword and handed it over, hilt first. Lios recognized him as his former sparring partner, Keagan.

  “Hey, good luck. Don’t go easy on him. Despite all of his bravado, Ethan is actually pretty talented.” Keagan said under his breath. Lios nodded and smiled at the older boy, clapping him on the shoulder before taking the longsword and taking the final step onto the stage.

  “What are the rules of this duel?” he asked, glancing over at the proctor. Despite the situation he found himself in, Lios felt quite calm. He had sparred plenty of times with a few different people and had no reason to believe this would go any differently. Even if he lost, the worst that would come of it was folks thinking he was a worse swordsman than the one before him, a privileged and trained swordsman who also acted as an adventurer at times.

  Still, he felt a chill as he looked across the stage to see the maniacal grin of Ethan. Between the way he switched so quickly from delinquent to respectable noble, and the way he spoke to Rose, Lios found something deeply unsettling about the teen. Clearly he was some kind of creep who had a superiority complex. I just have no idea what he might be scheming.

  “The fight will go until one of you either presents a killing blow, one of you yields, or one of you is incapacitated. Does that seem fair?”

  “With these terms, how does armor play into this? Or can I request our humble Ethan here to remove his?” Lios asked with a tilted head.

  “As the challenged, you may either request armor or for the removal of his. Do you have a preference?”

  “Yes, I’d like Ethan to doff his armor.” As he spoke, Lios took a couple of practice swings with the longsword. It felt good in his hands, decently balanced and clearly cared for. He would have to be sure to thank Keagan for sharing his weapon.

  He tested it some more while a grumbling teen removed his azure armor across the way. Once it was off, Ethan turned to face Lios with a sneer. “No more delays! Let’s fight, smith!”

  Lios didn’t reply, simply nodding. He considered whether he would use his spells or not; he didn’t know if it would be poor etiquette to do so. As he got into a decent stance, he glanced over the crowd and found several faces he recognized. Darren and his mother both stood near the rear, even as more people turned to the stage. The priest Hammod was chatting off to the side with some pious-looking folk.

  Lios met his mother’s worried gaze and showed her a casual smile, giving her a quick wave. It did nothing to quell her concerns, but he felt as though her gaze softened a bit. When he looked at Darren, however, the older man simply gave Lios an approving grin and a wink. He mouthed the words “Good luck” and settled in to watch the upcoming combat.

  As the proctor counted the pair down, Lios breathed deep and refocused. He had no idea what to expect from the older boy, aside from a higher level. He had no idea what skills the boy might have and was worried about them, but there was nothing to be done about that now.

  As soon as the countdown hit zero, Ethan burst forward. Water seemed to trail him, a mist that could almost be confused for a plume of dust appearing from nowhere as he launched himself forward. Lios stepped to the side, easily dodging the charge, and moved to strike Ethan's undefended side.

  Penrose moved quickly to defend himself, his blade meeting Lios’s just in time. The two clashed quickly before Lios back stepped, not yet stepping with mana. He flitted to Ethan's other side, Keagan's longsword swinging down to cleave the older adventurer's thigh. This time Ethan managed to dodge, moving just out of the way, though the steel still caught his trousers, leaving a small cut in them.

  “You’ll pay for that, smith!” The boy growled, about as intimidating as a Pomeranian in Lios’s eyes.

  Not deeming him worthy of a reply, Lios leapt forward, pursuing Ethan. That is, until he saw a smirk on his foe’s face, and promptly shifted his weight to dodge a blow that moved far faster than he had so far seen Ethan move. The teens sword swooped up from below, attempting to remove Lios’s arm, but Lios was able to twist out of the way just in time. As he did, he felt a splash hit him. Whatever skill the bully was using sent water scattering everywhere.

  Narrowing his gaze, ignoring the susurration of the crowd as they oohed and awed with the duo's fast-paced conflict, he sent mana down through his feet. There were no visible signs of this action, but some who were especially observant would potentially notice their hair rising up on their arms. They might notice that when they touched another person, or a piece of metal, a tiny shock would snap at them. Of course, most would not attribute that to the warrior on stage but more likely to the heavy wool cloaks they wore or their cotton tunics.

  Given his position on the stage, Lios knew the area he could use for spell craft was relatively small and so drew the first line for the first rune a bit smaller than normal. He didn’t have a full fifteen feet to work with and had to shrink his scale. This was something he had experimented with only a little, and had found no real difference in the spell's function, so was pretty confident it would work.

  Lios parried a blow from Ethan as the older boy came after him, forcing the smith on the back foot. After that, he barely managed to block another blow that seemed to come in even harder from the side, the force behind it sending Lios stumbling. He somehow maintained his spell, even drawing a line for a different rune in the same action, but could hardly contain his shock at the power exerted.

  Once again, the boy felt a chill that was unrelated to the brisk autumn air. He took in the rage filling Ethan's eyes, the other boy’s confidence and eagerness. His bloodlust, though the only other time Lios had experienced something of the like was when facing the rottfangs. Ethan’s expression was eerily similar, as though he were looking at prey for him to gobble up. As though he were starved in some way, preventing him from seeing Lios as anything more than a helping of essence.

  Warmth began to bubble in Lios’s chest. At least with the rottfangs he knew they were animals trying to survive. He held no anger towards them, even after they had killed Brioche, because he knew they were simply following the natural cycle. Ethan, in contrast, was a man who didn’t even consider Lios a person. Alexilios was, to him, simply a peasant, and peasants were those who the nobles could walk over. Those the “Betters” could chew up and spit out as they pleased.

  The warmth bubbled, spilling over. Entering his veins, turning Lios’s casual expression into one of disdain. Of anger. The mana flowed faster through his feet. The boy sidestepped a heavy overhand strike and saw half a dozen openings but was just too slow to capitalize on them, at least for now. Despite his rare class, Ethan was still his superior in stats, having a higher level and most likely having chosen his second class.

  This knowledge didn’t dissuade the young spell sword. On the contrary, it lit a fire under him. Alongside his anger, adrenaline and excitement burst through his veins. Each time he dodged or blocked a blow, taking in his opponent’s style and skills, his heart beat faster. He could feel it within its cage, thumping and pounding. Sweat soon began to bead down his face.

  “Do you just plan to run forever, smith? I thought you were a swordsman? Pathetic!” Ethan taunted as he backed away to catch his breath. He had been relentless, chasing Lios around in a veritable circle for several seconds and having all of his strikes either blocked or dodged. The stage was now covered by a faint mist, now noticeable even to the least knowledgeable townsfolk.

  “Not running, just feelin you out, Lord Penrose,” Lios said in a sweetly courteous voice through gritted teeth. He had only a few more steps to complete his spell. With that in mind, as the older boy caught his breath a few feet away, Lios lunged. His longsword was thrust froward, meeting with a reverberating clang as it was parried. His followup was subsequently blocked as well, as Lios twisted to slash at Ethan’s side again.

  A few more blows were exchanged, blade met blade, and the dance continued. Then, the spell Lios had spent several seconds forming clicked into place, and he sent a final iota of mana into it. A bit of mana rushed in from around him as well, filling any gaps that his mana left, and crackling blue-white energy sprang to life around his blade.

  The noble brat’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting Lios to have skills related to magic. Still, he did not back away nor relent. He came at Alexilios with renewed vigor, his sword slamming down into the wood of the stage when the dancer dodged. He wrenched it out, sending splinters into the air, while Lios moved to counter. A small amount of electricity transferred from his sword into Ethans. Not enough to paralyze the older warrior, but it was worthy of a wince.

  “What sort of fuckery...” Ethan muttered too quietly for the crowd to hear.

  The crowd had reacted differently than Ethan, with muttering springing up and some whoops filling the air. The crowd had also grown quite a bit as the clash of metal could be heard across the plaza. Despite knowing his entire focus should be on Ethan, Lios spared a glance at his mother, who now stood beside his father, still wearing the uniform of the guard vice captain. His father had an unreadable expression, and Elaine still looked worried, though Lios swore he caught some pride in her eyes.

  Turning back to his fight, he ducked under a high horizontal swing, and leapt close, aiming a slash at Ethan's torso. The boy backed up just as quickly as Lios approached, earning him a small cut, but the heat of the lightning cauterized it before it could bleed. Still, it was satisfying to watch the prick wince and growl.

  Unwilling to let the momentum go back to Ethan, Lios guided the fight. He drew another rune in his pursuit, content to exchange blows and blocks. The two were far more evenly matched than he had expected, and despite his anger and discontent with Ethan, Lios had to admit the fight was fun. It was his first time sparring with someone who was neither significantly better than him nor below him. Even Keagan, who had vastly improved, especially after gaining his class, couldn’t compete with Lios. The power of Lios’s rare class alongside his dedication to the sword made it difficult for his peers to catch up.

  It was exhilarating to see all of his practice come into use. He didn’t have to like his opponent to admit the boy was skilled. At the same time, he didn’t feel he could keep up forever. Something told him Ethan was holding back. Biding his time. Waiting to unleash a skill that would end the fight.

  A few moments later, as the crackling energy faded from Lios’s sword, he felt within himself as the tempo of the battle shifted. The mist around his legs almost became corporeal, grabbing at his legs and slowing him down. Startled, he glanced down and thought he saw movement within the vapor, and looking back at his foe, a smirk had crossed Ethan’s lips. A triumphant look appeared on his visage as though the result of the fight was already determined.

  “[Mistborn Serpent],” the boy said aloud, either to intimidate Lios or to make himself sound more powerful. There were very few cases where it was necessary to verbalize a skills name. “Let’s see you run around now!”

  With those words, Ethan sprang into action once again. He leapt forward, and Lios had to move sluggishly, barely blocking the incoming steel blade. He sidestepped to counter, still able to move but as though his legs were being held down with rope. He was so close to completing another spell.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t seem he would get a chance to activate it. Nor did he think it mattered much. If he had been smarter at the start and used a wind based spell to disrupt Ethan’s mist, maybe he would have a chance, but now that the older swordsman was using skills Lios didn’t feel he had much of a chance. Still, he fought. The two clashed a half dozen more times with Lios unable to reach his last rune, unable to activate his spell.

  Finally, the older boy was able to capitalize on the advantage he had created. Calling out “[Sepentine Strike],” water flowed from his blade as it weaved through Lios’s defences, the tip of the sword resting just before the blade-dancer's neck. The two stopped, both panting from the exertion of their fight. Before Lios could step back and away, though, and before the proctor called an end to it, Ethan moved quickly and swept the smith’s feet from under him, causing him to fall on his ass.

  “Stay away from Rose, peasant.” With those final words, he spat on Lios and jumped off the stage.