CLACK!
The mace cracked down on the wooden stick. Vlad angled his wrist to divert the power of Karlo's swing.
Then slashed his makeshift sword across the Knight's belly.
Given the padded armor and chainmail, it didn't do much. But it did shock him. Karlo wasn't completely useless, though. He didn't fall back.
He instead used a form Elder Laszlo had taught him.
Quick blows meant to cause extreme confusion and hopefully brain his enemy.
There was no thought left in Karlo of sparing the fledgling in front of him.
Only thought of surviving.
Something about Vlad's composure was scaring him enough that he just wanted to kill him and be done with it.
In Vlad's eyes, the Knight was slow.
His form was weak. His feet weren't planted. His stance was mostly defensive. It was as though he was more worried about being hurt than killing his enemy.
He'd dismissed the Knight as an opponent.
But then Karlo shifted into this new form.
And Vlad's calm mood snapped.
"Bastard!" His roar blasted the area, causing most of the fledglings to gasp. Even Andras, his confidence in Karlo growing as he saw the beginnings of the form, flinched. "You dare use Turkish bullshit and call yourself a member of the Court! Ferenc would ash himself in shame to see this useless stuff from you! Get on your belly and beg forgiveness!"
"Arrogant-"
Smack!
Vlad used a variation on the first step, combining the lunge with an overhead swing. The stick slammed down on Karlo's forehead, stunning him.
"I said get on your belly! Is your brain damaged from this Turkish nonsense so much that you don't understand the situation you are in? This is the Black Dragon Court!"
"You-"
Smack!
Karlo almost tore his arm as he tried to bring it up in time to block the stick, but the power of Vlad's attack bent his wrist back and still the wood smashed into his forehead in the exact same spot.
Blood spat from his skull and flooded his face like a river.
"Down!"
"Bastard! I'll-"
"Down!"
"-kill-"
The stick flashed. This time, Vlad sent a wave of blood energy up the wooden blade. Not enough to cause it to explode. But enough to light up the courtyard and, when the stick smashed into the side of Karlo's head, it exploded with a loud bang and threw the Knight back so hard he slammed into a nearby wall with a sickening crunch.
Karlo groaned. He'd hit the back of his head on the wall.
Now his whole head hurt. "Ugh!"
Through hazy vision, he saw Vlad stomping towards him.
"You're still not on your belly!"
He tried to lift his arm.
His mace was gone.
Where was it?
Dazed, he searched the ground. Saw it. It was out of reach.
A dull curse slithered into his dim awareness.
It was hard to think.
Only one thing was surfacing clearly.
Fear.
Fear of this monstrous thing stalking him. Crimson flame shot out from Vlad's fingers and swirled around the stick in his hands. Karlo couldn't believe it. He'd used blood energy himself, but it had never been this bright.
Nor this energetic.
Even Elder Laszlo never used it. And Andras only used it when he was desperate because it took too much concentration to do anything with.
In truth, he'd thought blood energy was nothing but a lightshow.
How could he be so wrong?
He watched in fascinated horror as the bright light turned into a wave. A wave headed for his face!
There was no avoiding it.
Crack!
Bone splintered. He felt it. On the side of his skull.
"Brother!" Ist shrieked. "Stop fighting him!"
For a moment, Karlo thought his brother was speaking to Vlad. He was shocked to hear someone begging for his life.
Then he realised with shame it wasn't so.
Ist was telling him to get on his belly!
Why would he do that?
The stick swished.
This time it crunched into his shoulder, causing the joint to pop.
Enough, he thought. That's enou-
Then Vlad went to work.
Karlo had taken a lot of beatings in his life. On the streets, you got used to them. No one went their life without at least one good thrashing.
But this was different.
Vlad was targeting every part of his body with such brutal efficiency that it left Karlo's brain unable to string any coherent thoughts together. Every time he tried to move, Vlad targeted whatever he was trying to move.
If he lifted his arm, Vlad smashed the arm.
If he tried to get his leg out of the way, Vlad smashed his leg.
Frustration built, and tears filled his eyes.
"Get down, dummy!" Again, it was Ist's voice which pierced Karlo's awareness.
How long had it been since Ist had called him dummy?
He'd survived too many beatings. Even if this was the worst, Karlo had never given in before. Why would he give in now? All he had to do was reach the mace.
Then he'd teach this little bastard a good lesso-
Smack!
Stop! Just give me a moment to breathe!
"Ferenc would shit himself just seeing this bullshit. Then he'd-"
Vlad kept ranting. The words blurred past Karlo's consciousness.
Ferenc?
Who in Hell was Ferenc?
Still.
The name sounded familiar.
Smack!
Everything hurt now.
"Enough!" A familiar voice roared.
It was Andras.
Andras had come to save him.
Smack!
What? The fledgling didn't seem to care.
Smack!
"Stop," Karlo mumbled across bloody lips. "Please…"
"I said that's enough!"
Through swollen eyes, Karlo saw Vlad over him. Those red eyes were the most dangerous gaze he'd ever felt on him. It was worse than seeing a hungry wolf staring at you from the trees.
Worse than seeing the heartless gaze of an assassin pause on you.
If his bladder still functioned, Karlo knew he'd be sitting in a puddle of his own piss.
Andras blurred behind Vlad, screaming in. For a moment, Karlo felt a brief flicker of hope. But the fierce rage burning in Vlad's eyes scorched that hope.
Without even turning, Vlad's stick shot out and doubled Andras over.
Then he brought it down again across the back of the Knight's head.
Andras splashed down on his belly.
And didn't move.
"Monster!" Karlo gasped.
And did the only thing he could do.
He sprawled on his belly in front of him. Squeezing tears from his eyes as he drooled his words.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please stop now! I won't do it again… I'll leave you be…"
Vlad tapped the back of Karlo's head with the tip of the wooden stick.
"You want to live?"
What bullshit was that? Of course he wanted to live!
"Y-yes!"
"You will take this shitty Turkish peasant's weapon. You will take it and burn it. You will bring me its pieces so I know that's what you did. And if you pick up another ever again, I will break every bone in your body. Do you understand this?"
This!
How was he supposed to defend the Court without a mace?
Again the stick tapped his head. A little firmer. "Do you understand?"
"Yes!" Karlo shouted.
"And when this useless bastard wakes, you will make him do the same. Do not make me have to chase him."
Andras was going to be mad.
But the fledgling had knocked him out cold.
The strength in his arm to do that!
Karlo shivered. "I'll… I'll tell him."
"Hold up your arms."
"What?"
"Your arms. Hold them up."
Confused, Karlo did what he was told.
Then screamed as Vlad brought the stick down in a final slashing cut which smashed his hands.
Writhing in agony, the Knight babbled incoherent curses along a streaming moan of pain which didn't end.
"That is what I promised. To break your hands. While it heals, you should think about what you have done."
Karlo's head was too filled with a bright crashing wave of agony. It kept rolling through his brain. "Hurts!"
"Weak," Vlad hissed. "Your brother never complained as much as you do! Ist?"
"Yes, Brother!"
"Help this trash to do what he needs to do."
"Yes, Brother."
"Piers?"
"Yes, Brother!"
"Assist Ist."
"Yes, Brother."
Vlad bent over Karlo and used the stick to lift his chin. Glaring into the Knight's eyes, he asked coldly; "Do you hear them? Do you hear their words?"
"Y-y-yes…"
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Brother?"
"What?" Vlad's gaze burned into him.
"Yes, Brother!" Karlo shouted as loud as he could. The pain of it flashed his brain and he wanted to throw up.
"Good." Vlad motioned for Ist to come forward. "You can learn. Return to me when your hands are good."
"Yes, Brother," Karlo groaned.
But Vlad had turned away. His wrathful gaze settling on the remaining fledglings.
He glanced down at his wooden stick.
Frowned at it.
"This was helpful," he said at last. "Step forward, Galosh. Because it was helpful, I will only give you a light beating for losing it."
"Ah," Galosh slumped, stepping forward. "Shit."