The boy, like a coward, let Azarax advance a few steps before him. On the other side, the man did the same and let the beast advance first. In fact, the man next to the beast looked a bit apprehensive of the beast. Almost more so than he did of the two adversaries in front of him.
The nameless boy glanced at the back of his comrade. His back seemed so large from the boy's angle. Though the boy had not known him long, Azarax was the one person in his life. At least for now. So the boy made a decision; he stepped forth to where Azarax was advancing, then slowly drifted off to his side, keeping in the same horizontal line as Azarax.
'I should at least pull my weight.'
On the other side, the man who was reluctantly following the beast also drifted off to meet the boy, seemingly desperate to move away from the beast.
Thus, the battle was essentially split into two solo duels.
The nameless boy studied the man before he even got near striking range. It was a bit difficult as the boy could hear his heartbeat in his head, and his steps were shaky. Still, he managed, if barely.
The man across from him was wearing plates across his whole body and was wielding a rusted long sword. He looked to be not quite young, but not yet old either. As if negative aging had just begun to grace him. On that topic, the nameless boy did not know how old he was or what he even looked like.
'I think I am quite young. I feel so at least.'
The boy stared at his sword and saw a teenage boy staring back in its reflection. The boy had black hair that was surprisingly neat. His face shape was not exactly striking or rather sharp, but somewhere in a neutral area. If the boy had been looking at a polished mirror, he might have even thought himself handsome. As for his eye color and nose shape, he could not completely discern them at the moment.
Now he was not too far from his adversary. Sparing a glance at the comrade, the boy saw that Azarax was just a step away from being able to strike the beast he was facing.
Then, in a flash, the beast lunged at him. The boy's eyes widened as Azarax sidestepped the aggressive lunge and skillfully cut into the beast. Then, not a blink later, the beast lunged again, with the agility and force of its four legs. But it was still not enough to catch the swordsman, who then tilted his blade and deflected the wild swing from the beast's arm.
Then, in a flowing motion, the swordsman swiftly struck the back of the beast's arm. Providing what seemed to be a devastating cut.
Their battle continued, but the boy no longer had time to spectate.
He peeled his eyes away from his comrade and turned to the man in front of him. Slowly, the man brought his sword into a ready position. The boy followed and raised his shield defensively.
The two stood there, listening to the clanging and growls of the battle next to them.
It soon became apparent that neither of them knew how to fight. There was no edge to be had in skill, as neither had skill. So neither advanced.
The moments turned into seconds until the boy felt that same pull as earlier. The sort of pull that affected his spirit, or maybe soul. Hesitantly, he gave in to the pull. This time, words did not appear in front of him, but rather a subtle shift happened. Firstly, he felt his eyes change in nature. As if filled with a flowing energy. Secondly, an apparent change appeared in his adversary's appearance. It was as if seeing a whole new image overlaid onto what the boy actually saw. Like a new plane.
This plane was odd, as if it existed atop each 3D object, instead of creating its own objects. But for some reason, the man is the only place where the plane existed. Across his body, small fractures appeared. Except on one of his arms, where a large fracture was situated at his joint. The boy thought back to the last time he felt a tug. It said something about vital points.
'Vital points? Are the fractures vital points?'
The boy's instincts agreed with him. As if the fractures were a representation of the man's vital points.
So, the boy subtly unlatched the circular shield from his arm and gripped his sword tightly. Then he threw the shield right at the man's left side. Seemingly startled, the man jerked his sword wildly to the side and deflected the shield.
The boy took this moment to lunge forward and direct a slash at the man's exposed right side. Perhaps it was due to the man's lack of skill, or maybe due to the weak point on his right arm, the man was unable to bring the sword back across his body in time.
The boy quickly slashed his blade, and it made contact with a metal plate before deflecting into the flesh of the man's arm. Then the boy followed through and positioned the blade between himself and the man's weapon. The man swung, and his longsword bounced weakly off the raised short sword. In the same moment, he dropped the sword to the ground and clutched his bleeding arm. The boy took this opportunity to slash again, this time at the man's body.
The man screamed, then fell to the ground. Blood was seeping out where the boy had landed his cuts. Shifting his vision slightly, the boy looked towards the man and saw two great fractures where he had hit him.
Just like that, the battle was over in just two strikes. Applause broke out from the crowd.
The boy peered to where his comrade was and saw that he had already slain his beast and was heading over to the boy. Now all that was left was for the boy to land the final blow against his adversary. The boy stepped forward and aimed towards the man's neck. The most merciful way the boy could think of to kill him.
Then he stood there. He looked at the man writhing in pain.
Not recalling a certain memory, or even a familiar feeling, the boy saw the man's light eyes.
'They look so human…'
Then the eyes shifted. A subtle shift that reflected desire. As if the eyes were the gateway to the soul, showing what one wanted most. They shifted into a defiant… or rather wild look. That of a wild beast.
Then, in a swift motion, the man with such speed rammed into the nameless boy and knocked him off his feet. In the same motion, he used his good arm to pick up his fallen sword and then raised it.
With speed, he struck down, aiming to end the boy's life. But Azarax was faster.
The swordsman maneuvered in front of the blade and parried it to the side. Then he directed his momentum in a fluid circle and brought his sword back around to deliver a strike.
The man's head rolled to the ground, and the audience burst out into even louder, uncanny cheers.