The next day, outside the city in the open field.
The old man silently watched Zaber for a while. The wind gently swayed the dry grass across the dusty open ground; the marks left on the earth bore silent witness to more than thirty rounds.
"Enough, kid," Larden finally said. His voice was quiet, yet left no room for argument. "We end it here today."
Zaber clenched the soil beneath his knee tightly. Dry earth trickled between his fingers.
"I refuse," he said in a low but firm tone. "It doesn't end until I say it does."
The old man took one step forward. His shadow completely enveloped Zaber.
"I'm the master here, not you," Larden said. "Analyze everything that happened today. Where you were slow, where you left yourself open, where you didn't think at all. Tomorrow you'll attack better."
Zaber took a deep breath and stood up. As he brushed the dust from his clothes, his muscles still trembled faintly.
"Fine," he said in a calmer voice. "Then shall we head back to the cabin?"
