Sham surged forward once more, still suspended above the ground, his body angled with predatory precision. His sword rose high before cutting downward toward my shoulder in a decisive strike. The sunlight caught the edge of his blade as he descended, and his shadow stretched over me, swallowing the space between us. There was no hesitation in his movement. He attacked with the confidence of someone who believed he already controlled the flow of the duel.
But this time, I was not reacting blindly.
I had been waiting for this exact moment.
As soon as he fully committed to the strike and shifted his weight forward in the air, something interrupted him. His body jolted abruptly, not violently but just enough to disturb his balance. His balance in midair faltered, and the precision of his swing disrupted.
That single instant was all I needed.
I stepped forward without hesitation, closing the narrow gap between us. Instead of swinging my blade, I released one hand from the hilt and drove my fist sharply into his wrist. The strike was quick and deliberate, aimed at the joint rather than the arm itself.
The impact sent a visible jolt through his hand. His fingers spasmed from the sudden shock, and his grip faltered. For a split second, he tried to tighten his hold, but the control was already gone. His sword slipped from his grasp, spinning away as his hand opened against his will.
It spun through the air in a brief arc, catching the light as it turned, before clattering against the packed earth several steps away. The dull thud of metal striking ground echoed louder than it should have in the sudden stillness.
Sham's balance had not yet fully returned when I advanced again. I pivoted smoothly and brought my blade up in one continuous motion, the tip stopping just beneath his chin. The cold edge hovered at his throat, close enough for him to feel the threat without drawing blood.
Silence fell across the clearing.
Sham went completely still, his eyes widening just slightly as the realization settled in. For a single heartbeat, neither of us moved. The crowd, which had been shouting moments before, seemed to vanish into the background.
Then his gaze dropped.
Around his ankle, a small curved shield shimmered faintly. It lay low and subtle, wrapped just enough around his foot to interfere with his movement. It was not large. It was not strong. It had not been crafted to endure a strike.
It had only needed to disrupt him.
The shield had rolled into place at the exact moment he committed his weight forward in midair. That slight obstruction had been enough to disturb his balance and steal the precision from his attack.
Understanding slowly surfaced in his expression. The surprise in his eyes faded, replaced by clarity as he pieced together what had happened.
He lifted his gaze back to mine, and a faint smile curved at the corner of his lips. There was no frustration in it, no resentment. Only acknowledgment.
"Skra-smart," he said quietly.
He drew in a steady breath and raised his empty hands slightly, signaling surrender. "Skra-yield."
The words carried clearly across the clearing.
For a brief second, no one reacted. Then the murmurs began.
The trainees who had been shouting his name only moments earlier now stared in stunned silence before breaking into hushed whispers. They had witnessed the entire exchange. They had seen Sham dominate the pace of the duel, forcing me onto the defensive again and again. They had watched my shields shatter under the weight of his strikes, seen him corner me more than once.
By all appearances, he had held the advantage.
And yet, in a single calculated moment, the tide had turned.
This was the second time I had defeated him.
Sham, who stood at the peak among his peers. The one the younger trainees admired, the one they cheered for without hesitation.
The realization settled quietly in my chest.
Around us, the excited murmurs gradually faded. What had begun as shocked whispers thinned into a strange, uneasy silence. The clearing felt different now, as if everyone was reassessing what they had just witnessed.
Across the open space, my eyes found Vaela.
She stood among the crowd with her arms folded loosely, her posture relaxed. Unlike the others, there was no confusion on her face. A faint, satisfied smile rested on her lips, small but unmistakable. When our gazes met, she lifted her hands and made a clapping gesture.
Heat crept up the back of my neck. I lowered my sword and rubbed the back of my head awkwardly, suddenly unsure where to look.
I exhaled slowly and let the shield wrapped around Sham's foot dissolve. The faint translucent curve flickered once before fading completely, leaving nothing but bare earth beneath his foot.
Sham lowered himself fully to the ground and adjusted his stance, testing his balance as if confirming that the interference was truly gone. He rolled his shoulder once, loosening the tension from the duel, then turned his attention back to me with a curious glint in his eyes.
"Skra-not use this earlier why?" he asked.
I slid my sword back into its sheath before replying. "Because it would not have worked earlier," I said honestly. "You were too focused. I needed you to commit fully and lower your guard."
He studied my face for a moment, as if weighing my words.
Then he laughed, the sound open and genuine.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward and gave my shoulder a firm tap, careful to avoid the fresh cut. "Skra-nice fight," he said, nodding in approval.
Before I could respond to Sham, the heavy footsteps of Rokar and Kal drew closer.
They stepped into the clearing with steady, composed expressions, their presence alone enough to quiet the remaining whispers around us.
"Skra-fought well," Kal said, his tone calm but carrying quiet approval.
Rokar's sharp eyes settled on me next, his gaze evaluating. "Skra-ability shield?" he asked.
"Yes, Brother Rokar," I answered.
He held my gaze for a brief moment longer before giving a single nod. "Skra-train harder."
Without another word, he turned and walked back toward the main training ground, his broad figure cutting through the dispersing crowd. Kal followed beside him, already calling out instructions to the trainees who had allowed themselves to be distracted.
The villagers gradually returned to their routines. Wooden swords were lifted once more. Conversations resumed in low murmurs as they cast occasional glances in my direction.