14 Chapter 13

I was actually glad when my fight came around because I could escape our families that had taken up sitting around Johan and I to watch the fights. Unlike the past few days- or dinners, specifically- Mr. Hiel and my father both had a few drinks and were as openly rambunctious as Johan and I had pretended to be. My mother, though, was simply quiet and unhappy with all of us.

Even though she had worked as an apothecary in legion forts where she met my father, she disapproved of fighting.

My opponent, like I thought, was one of the boys that had been boxing one another. Like my first fight, the guy was obviously taller than me, but he did not look down on me because he kept his chin low and evenly faced me. I might have to reach up a bit to hit that chin, but it was still within reach.

"Fists only and I promise it'll be a good fight," the other boy says with an actual friendly smile that met his eyes, but the eyes held an excited gleam of their own. This kid whose face was swollen and both lips split at least once WANTED to fight. He probably thought I would be as much fun, if not more fun, than the last kid.

"Make it arms only and I'll teach you a few tricks," I reply, wondering exactly how much damage I could or WOULD take in a straight fist match with this kid. I might be a little fast and know how to use my size in my favor, but this kid was used to getting hurt and could easily eat my blows while landing singular harsh hits one at a time at any opening.

Nodding slowly while considering my counter offer, the boy says, "Deal, you're first."

I needed no further prompting than that and immediately lunged across the short distance to start jabbing at my opponent. He did not even bother blocking but instead turned and leaned this way and that while constantly stepping back to either side to keep the direction of combat changing. He was actually pretty good and was likely taking full advantage of this fight to gather experience with working his agility.

He actually had pretty good footwork, which was somewhat surprising. However, he was not showing off in the least because it took all of his effort to continue focusing on evasion while I would randomly switch from jabbing to turning my body into a sideways hammer fist at his midriff or leap down the middle axis of his constant shifting with a falling punch. He had to do a full ninety-degree shift and back step to evade my falling punch.

After a few more moments, both of us came to a brief stop just out of each other's reach. Neither of us were breathing hard but the obvious signs of effort and exertion could be seen by both of our shiny and sweaty faces. I could not help but wonder if this boy was being taught or had taught himself.

Moving like that required a lot of effort and was not such an easy trick to master at his age without long hours and at least weeks of dedicated practice. If he was teaching himself, then this kid was an absolute genius that had been playing down his skills in his last fights, but even if he was being taught then his was still naturally talented to be this good at only a couple years older than myself. "Your turn," I say at last, wanting to see what he could actually do.

Nodding his head in acknowledgment, the other boy closed the distance in a quick lung and started jabbing as well. I copied his footwork a bit, stepping back and to one side and then the other with only a slight backwards lean as I measured the distance. After the third step to one side, though, I back stepped to the same side to come along beside the boy only for him to almost spin into a hammering fist like I had used.

Knowing how to manage such an attack, I simply punched up into his arm and lowered my body to send his blow over my head before leaning and extending forward into a solid punch into the ends of the boy's ribs before distancing myself. The boy was more surprised than pained from my strike, but he simply nodded with a smile and closed the distance all over again. This time, instead of copying his footwork again I simply started blocking his blows by slamming my forearm up into one jab and then tucking my elbow down and turning my body to knock the following jab sideways away from me with the same arm.

Just making contact with his attacks was enough to bring a dully throbbing heat to my arm, so after blocking another two jabs with the same arm I swiftly jabbed out with the other and once again nailed the boy in the ends of his ribs. This time the boy simply ate the blow and jabbed both fists forward at the same time. Only one fist could be blocked and the other I could only turn into to take on my shoulder while mitigating some force with the turn of my body.

This arm of his kept going from my turning into it, allowing me to quickly spin around him and into a sideways hammering blow into the bends of his ribs on the side. My original punching arm had actually gone a little numb from taking the blow to my shoulder, but it was nothing compared to my blocking arm. Regardless, I still had some fight left in me.

Nodding his head enthusiastically, almost as if playing a tune in his head, the boy maintains a certain distance and says, "Might as well do as you please." Just after saying this, the boy closes the distance with a wide haymaker from the side, that I crouch under while punching down into his knee at the same time. The punch probably hurt me more than it hurt him, but it still hurt from how he quickly distanced himself and switched his stance so the other leg was leading.

Pressing the small advantage of forcing my opponent to retreat, I close the distance most of the way only to step back when the older boy suddenly turns into an even strong haymaker. This, though, involved stepping forward with his back leg that once again allowed me to duck and slam my fist into the same knee as before. This time I hammered the side of my fist down rather than injure my knuckles even more.

"You're actually really good at this," I commend the boy, wondering more about his background and how skilled he could become with a weapon in a short time. Somebody with his talent and some decent training would be capable of fighting with me.

"I've been told worse by better," he replies with a playful smirk, favoring his punched knee ever so slightly while slowly circling around me. "You're pretty good yourself. I bet, the first year your enter the next tournament up will be the same year you first win it. This year, though… probably not."

"You want to call a draw?" I ask coolly. "The final round is going to be hectic as it is, so if we call a draw we both move forward and the final match will be one-on-one instead of free-for-all. I need that knife too badly to take big risks."

"What do you need more, the knife or experience?" He asks playfully, visibly relaxing after my offer for a draw.

I need all of it, but I want a good relationship with this kid. "I want the knife from this year and next year, if they use a knife for the prize again. Unless you get beaten in the semi-finals, then I'm going for all of it."

Shrugging his shoulders, the older boy simply says, "If I get beaten, it won't matter. I ask for a draw!" He adds loudly just after replying to me.

"I second the draw," I announce right after, hoping the judges will play into my plans.