Arthur didn't want to waste any more time. He struck first with his fist. After a few bouts with Lancelot, he noticed the scion avoided using his hands to attack. Seizing the opening, took the advantage by launching a jab, aiming for the jaw for an instant knockout.
Lancelot dodged skillfully, and swept his leg towards Arthur's shin for a quick end to the fight.
'Crap!' Arthur had no time to back off. He also knew getting kicked in the shin would cripple him.
So the only thing he could do was—
"Hup!"
Lancelot was surprised to see Arthur leap over the leg sweep. It was quite impressive, but he had no time to admire it. He spotted an opening and braced on one hand and drove kick square into Arthur's chest.
Arthur landed safely, but he quickly clenched his chest as the sharp pain took hold. It only lasted a moment before Dullahan's physical prowess healed him.
He glared at Lancelot, who had already resumed his fighting stance and raised his brow, "Come on, that didn't hurt much," Lancelot said. "I kicked you in the shin before, and you barely staggered."
Arthur gritted his teeth and started attacking again.
He aimed an uppercut just like before, and Lancelot dodged it with a smirk, "You're too readable."
"Oh, yeah? Read this then!"
Lancelot leaned back to avoid the uppercut, so Arthur grabbed his collar, and yanked him forward.
"What the—argh!"
Arthur punched Lancelot squarely on his cheek. He let go of his collar in time, sending the scion rolling on the sand.
Lancelot quickly got up, an obvious bruise forming on his cheek. But he didn't seem fazed.
He spat out some blood and said, "That's the second punch I've ever taken in my life. I know you've been holding back."
"I don't want to fight…" Arthur murmured, but clenched his fists, ready for another round. "But it's not like I have a choice."
"You don't. I decide when we stop," Lancelot said. "And we will stop when one of us can't fight anymore!"
Lancelot charged towards Arthur again and their fight continued until both were out of breath.
They were evenly matched, but while Arthur could heal himself from his injuries, Lancelot simply pushed through on sheer willpower.
"He has an insane willpower for an heir of a rich family, boy," Dullahan commented as the fight went on. "You need to pin him down and stop him from moving, or he might be too broken by the end of this."
Dullahan was right. Lancelot might have the grit, but his body would give out eventually. Arthur didn't want to cause irreparable damage to Lancelot's body.
He continued to dodge and defend until Lancelot raised his leg, aiming for a kick to his left ribs.
'Now!' Arthur told himself as he grabbed Lancelot's ankle as tight as he could to catch him off guard.
"Huh—?!" Lancelot was caught off guard when Arthur used his leg to attack for the first time. He kicked Lancelot's supporting foot, making him flip and fall face first to the sand.
Lancelot was spitting out sand as he tried to get up, but Arthur quickly sat on his back, putting his full weight on Lancelot to hold him down.
"Urgh—damn it!" Lancelot cursed.
"Are we done now?" Arthur asked.
"Hah, you wish! I can still go—ON!"
!!
Arthur was shocked when Lancelot tried to get up even with his weight on him. Was Lancelot that strong, or was Arthur that skinny to begin with?
Arthur decided to grab a handful of Lancelot's hair and pushed his face to the ground, making sure he stopped struggling.
"Fuck! Urrghhh!" Lancelot struggled as hard as he could, but with his face in the sand, he couldn't do much. He thrashed for a while until Arthur yelled.
"If you still want to struggle, then I'll forfeit the match!"
"…" Lancelot stopped struggling, and sighed, "Fine. I lost."
"Good."
Arthur let go of his hair to let Lancelot breathe before letting go and getting off from his back.
Lancelot coughed even more sand and tried to wipe his face to no avail.
After the match was over, Arthur let go of his fighting spirit, and apologized immediately, "I-I am so sorry…"
He took a handkerchief from his pocket, and offered it to Lancelot.
"No, it's okay. I would've done the same to win," Lancelot said as he accepted the handkerchief and wiped his face.
Once he regained his sight, he saw the handkerchief in his hand and raised his brow, "Flowers and cats?"
"That's my grandma's embroidery!"
Lancelot snorted, "I've never seen someone who loves his grandma this much."
He got up and pocketed the handkerchief before Arthur had a chance to get it back, "I'll tell the maid to wash it for you."
"Y-you don't have to—"
"I insist. It will be uncouth of me to use your handkerchief and return it dirty."
"U-uncouth?" Arthur had no idea what that word meant, but it sounded sophisticated. He just nodded. "Anyway, I don't want to fight anymore. Not that I wanted to fight in the first place…"
"My body is in extreme pain right now. I know you ended it sooner or else I would have been in the hospital with broken bones and deep bruises. I know even when going all out, you were still controlling your strength," Lancelot stretched his hand for a handshake. "I have been thoroughly bested. You are a much better fighter than I am. The first… and definitely the last."
Arthur shook his hand, "You're an amazing fighter, too. Uhm, in a real fight, I'm sure you'd win."
"What do you mean by 'real fight'? What we had WAS a real fight."
Arthur wanted to say that it was already unfair to start with, since he had the physical durability of a giant headless horseman. But he couldn't say that, so he just shrugged.
Lancelot sighed and clapped twice. The butler, who had been hiding behind a tree, ready to jump into the fight if called, walked towards them.
He was carrying a wet towel for the young master along with a glass of cold water.
"You don't have to sugarcoat it. You're stronger than I am. End of discussion," Lancelot said, wiping his face again with the wet towel, and drinking the water. "Want something to drink? I'm sure we have everything in the storage, including liquor."
Arthur shook his head, "I-I am fifteen."
"And I am sixteen."
"That means we can't drink yet!"
"Heh, what a law-abiding citizen you are," Lancelot scoffed. "But since you defeated me, it's not fair for me to mock you. Let me introduce myself properly. I am Lancelot Dean Fairmont. You can call me Lance, or Dean. Just call me Dean, honestly."
"C-can I just refer to you as Lancelot?"
Lancelot's smile dropped when Arthur said that, "That name—or Mr. Fairmont—is for strangers. You're not a stranger to me, not after you've defeated me."
Arthur was confused as to why it was any different just because they had a brawl, but he nodded again.
"Do not be confused. My master holds you in high regard because you are the first one to defeat him in a fight," the butler interrupted to smooth the conversation between the two young men. "He's had many fights in his life and never lost, not even against masters. You are… special, young man."
"Stop making it sound weird, Victor," Lancelot rebuked. "You're not special, but I do hold you in high regard, Arthur Penn."
"Thank you, I guess?" Arthur still didn't get the whole picture. After all, in his mind, a sixteen-year-old shouldn't be able to have that many fights. But seeing Lancelot's fighting prowess convinced him otherwise.
Lancelot stared at Arthur for a while. He seemed to be rethinking what he should say next, until he said, "I assume I cannot hold you for a long time. I'll let you off for now…" he turned his head towards the middle-aged butler and jerked his head towards the mansion. "Call the old man."
"Yes, Young Master."
"Old man? Like your dad?"
"Dad? You mean father?" Lancelot raised his brow, confused. "Who lives with their parents after they turn five?"
I don't know, a normal family?
That was what Arthur wanted to say, but he realized that he didn't know his own father, and he only lived with his mother until he was ten before her death. His family was also dysfunctional.
The old man Lancelot referred to finally walked out of the mansion after a while. He was wearing the same butler attire, but he was indeed old—perhaps around seventy years old.
"Greetings, Young Master, did you have fun?" the old butler bowed.
"I think I got some bad bruises here and there. But yes, I had fun," Lancelot replied. Arthur noticed a thin, gentle smile when he talked to the old man. He guessed the old butler must be an important person for the scion. "By the way, I have to introduce you to my new… acquaintance. His name is Arthur Penn. Arthur, this is Albert, the head butler."
Arthur and Albert bowed at the same time politely.
Albert smiled and said, "I see that he is a polite young man. But I'm more surprised with his fighting prowess. I saw everything through the window just now. The fact that he could defeat you, Young Master…"
Lancelot didn't seem to be bitter with his loss, because he nodded without hesitation. "He is the first one, yes. That means my training is not over yet."
"Indeed. I think that you need to fight him more for your growth."
"I-I don't want any more fights."
"Don't worry. I will pay you," Lancelot said. He glanced at Albert, and the old butler took out a thick stack of one-hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and handed it to Arthur. "Since you're too young to use a check, and might not have a bank account. I can only pay you five grand for our fight just now. Is this fair or do you want more?"
"I-I'm not taking your money!"
"I insist," Lancelot said firmly, slipping the money in Arthur's chest pocket. "Unless you want more."
"Hmph. This is what those rich nobles did back in the days! They'd buy knights with their insane wealth! Boy, don't take it, or you will be forced to work under him! A knight shouldn't bow to money because honor and glory are what matter most!" Dullahan yelled with the passion of a chivalrous knight.
But Arthur?
Nah.
He was definitely not a chivalrous knight. Because he thought about how he's struggling to survive on $150 a week.. On top of that, he still had to pay house bills, and fix the damages done by Legion.
Lancelot observed the nervous kid, and said to Albert, "Get some more cash. Perhaps ten thousand is a better price."
"This is enough!" Arthur raised his voice. As he knew ten thousand dollars would've completely bought his pride.
"Good," Lancelot smiled as if he just made a good purchase. "You are my sparring partner now, Arthur Penn."
"Haah, how typical…" Dullahan sighed.
Arthur wanted to sigh too.
No wonder he didn't get a real knight as his inner demon. Turns out, he was only five grand away from being a sellout.