They got to watch the redheaded blacksmith whoop the ass of another recruit on the square.
His swings were slow and wide, but still as devastating as always. It was to give them a chance to get out of the way, but if someone was foolish enough to try and block him—
The results were nothing short of spectacular in the setting sun.
Sweat and dust sprinkled everywhere with backlighting, as if he were watching a movie.
"This is Welf Welfson of the Blood Moon tribe," Konrad introduced him. "Our blacksmith, my top fighter, and he's also Lily's brother. I guess he's the closest to being my right-hand man."
Welf gave her a curt nod, leaving a smudge of dirt on his forehead when he wiped his sweat.
It was rare to see him tired when not forging adamantite blades, but he wasn't slacking with the training. Dozens of militiamen lay on the ground where he had left them after a bout.
Compared to the light sheen on his skin, they all looked half-dead and panting.
Everyone was still in one piece, though.
"Done with pushing papers today?" the redhead asked, rolling back his shoulders.
His voice wasn't as strained as someone who's gone through all those sparring matches.
Konrad could only envy his stamina.
"We made good progress," he nodded, tired from the administrative work alone. "And the princess here wanted to blow off some steam, knight-style."
Helena didn't react to that. She was too busy eyeing the bulging muscles instead.
When Konrad mentioned her rank, she became all bashful, though.
"Ah, with warriors like him, you have a clear shot at that tournament," she boasted.
Or not. It was more of a mumble—and was she blushing?
"I wish I had more of him," Konrad laughed, studying her face with amusement.
So this was her type? Unsurprising, but—
No, he didn't feel jealous—already struggling with his harem—but had to take a mental note.
Work out a bit more. Magic was only impressive when he was casting something.
One's muscles could always be on display—
Not that he had the time for anything these days.
"I brought much of the elite with me," Welf argued, though they didn't attend this evening's training. "Most of them have no problem beating me. I'm but a smith, no fighter, after all."
And he was much more humble than his sister, too.
Helena seemed to have appreciated him in more ways than one.
"A smith—have you ever considered using a hammer in battle?" she asked like a fangirl.
The redhead eyed her hand as she reached for the weapon on her belt.
"I uh, tried, but it was too nasty," he said, shivering at the thought.
Konrad raised an eyebrow at that.
"Nasty how?" He looked the muscular statue of a man up and down.
"Well," he considered his response for a while. "You know how I keep using it on solid metal all day. Hitting something squishy like a beast with the same force—innards everywhere."
Oh, yeah. He could see that. In fact, it was too bad he was a visual type.
His encounter with the goblins was still too fresh in his memories.
"Swords are superior like that," Konrad said in agreement, swallowing a barf back.
But somehow, Helena looked even more fascinated.
"Nonsense," she said, patting her weapon. "But I have to admit, I never killed. I never had to—all because of this sweetheart. It disarms my opponents without killing."
"If they have anything to disarm," Welf shot back. "Goblins would claw those pretty eyes out."
His words were casual, but she blushed even harder now.
"Griphlets are a ball of fangs and talons, too," Konrad added, nodding along as he watched her.
"Though a hammer would make short work of their skulls," the blacksmith pondered. "It wouldn't look nice, and I wouldn't want their brains on my skin, but it would work."
He wasn't talking about anything fascinating, but Helena was hanging on his every word.
"Good thing they turn into smoke," Konrad pointed out, but the redhead shook his head.
"Not the real ones, they don't."
Right. He forgot.
Dungeons copied beasts from the real world, so Griphlets existed without them, too.
And his duchy hadn't got a dungeon since—
Hold on. Was it for a century?
As long as Maple was in her seal?
His mind had a mind of its own, and he lost interest in the flirty conversation around him.
The princess and Welf exchanged a few more words, then the next thing he heard was—
"I'd love to see how a smith would fight against a hammer, though," Helena said, challenging.
"Not with this blade, for sure," the redhead replied. "I'm not dumb enough to risk it."
"Then you'd surrender?"
Was that teasing? The air was sure heating up around them.
What a pair. A princess and a tribesman—or did Konrad see too much into it?
"I'd use a hatchet," Welf said with a shrug. "Best you could do would be to ruin its edge, but I could hook it into your hammer as well as you could hook into me."
"Oh, I'd love to see that," Helena chirped, her dark eyes lighting up.
"You two sure hooked up fast," Konrad noted with a smirk and crossed his arms.
This worked out well. He didn't want to get his ass handed to him and was curious how his friend would deal with the dualist, too. The sparks between them were the icing on his cake.
The blacksmith grinned, handing off his greatsword to one of the recruits nearby.
"Bor, if you don't mind," he called out, and the tribesman threw him an axe without even looking. The redhead caught it in the air, his grip firm on the handle, and Helena's reaction—
Like an orgasming girl.
If this were an anime, Konrad imagined she'd make a 'kya' sound and the artist would draw red lines all over her face. He had to hold back a laugh, but looked on with interest.
"Please don't break any bones, Lily's not here," he warned them, though.
It would have been problematic if they injured a royalty.
Or if he lost his best fighter before a tournament.
"It would be below me to disrespect a famed duelist by holding back," Welf shot him down.
Helena's face lit up like a warning light. As plain and masculine as she acted so far, she was sure behaving like a hormonal teen in heat now. Konrad tried but failed to hold back a laugh.
"Okay, well, don't hold me responsible for whatever happens next, then," he said, stepping back.
This promised to be way too much fun to miss.
Bor pointed them at the center of the square, making ample space for the duel.
The recruits perked up, too, feeling the sparks in the chill evening air.
Helena's transformation from warrior to fangirl and back was nothing short of astonishing.
Once she set foot on the battleground, her color returned to normal.
She was all business again, her Warhammer raised with a firm grip.
Her eyes were on Welf's axe and nothing else.
Perfect focus, no distractions. It ought to be the duel of a lifetime.
"On my mark, then," Bor said, raising his right hand. "Go."