A Criminals Respite, an Officers Solace

Chapter 2 Pyrrhic Victory and Graduation Part 2

A/N: Same as before, just some minor edits have been made, improvements to grammar as well as slight changes to wordings and progressions. Really just trying to turn this into the chapter it was meant to be.

Sparks flew as a broad and tall figure parried a quick light from their top guard. The figure instinctually threw a follow up heavy attack to the disoriented Conqueror in question, hitting him square in the head with the hammer affixed on the blade's opposite end, further dazing him before a follow up second smack to his head dazed him yet again. Mathew had effectively been put out of stamina by the Lawbringers' quick hammering, and was breathing hard, desperately trying to regain his stamina. Johann gave little chance for respite as she continued her assault with another heavy, followed by a second and then a third, blowing threw his passive guard and dealing a hefty amount of damage in the process.

By the time Mathew had gotten a hold of his breath it was too late as Johann finished him off with a firm prod to the top of his helmet with the butt end of her poleaxe. Mathew collapsed onto the ground below with a pained exhale, dropping his shield and flail in the process. From an outsider's point of view it would look as if the collapsed man had just died from their duel, and normally that would be the case. However, only a short few seconds later a flash of white enveloped both Johann and Mathew as they returned to the starting positions of the area, both in pristine condition despite having fought only a moment prior.

"Nothing in my life will ever make me get used to the feeling of dying." Mathew groaned out, not ashamed of voicing his aggravation. "it's all cold and it feels wet." he continued, the discontent loud and proud. He fiddled with a strap on his helmet before making his way to the arena gate, intent on de-linking with the anchor so he can rest from his morning routine. Johann followed closely behind him, her plans being very similar to Mathews. She had stayed quiet during their duel as per usual, not wanting to lose focus on her opponent. "Then stop losing." Johann said simply as she and Mathew grasped the loadstone and depowered it by un-linking with the magical device. "It's the easiest way to keep that from happening." Her voice was lower than expected and held a sense of calm to it, no doubt it was attributed to her tall and broad frame. Once the Anchor had been deactivated Johann began to leave the dueling wing of the keep, armor and all.

Mathew responded with a loud scoff as he fully removed his helmet and glared at the retiring Champion. "Easy for you to say, you've been here for a dozen years, and been a champion for who knows how long. I've been here for all of three weeks!" He yelled in annoyance, but by the time he had finished Johann had already left the large, nearly empty room. Mathew contemplated on storing his weapons on the semi vacant weapon racks that lined the edges of the four arenas in the said room, but he quickly decided against it as he knew the type of 'talking to' he'd get from one of the other higher ranking Champions in charge of equipment management. It took him all of three seconds to realize that it was currently his down time and prime resting time. He quickly scurried out of the empty room excited to get his chance to rest after the hours of laborious combat training that he had been given as a part of his new role in being a permanent Champion resident.

Johann heaved a sigh as she closed the door behind her, and took her helmet off before the door had fully closed. She rested her helmet on the top of her armor stand, and her poleaxe next to the stand, leaning it against an outcropping attached to said stand. She took a short few steps towards a makeshift multi layered shelf where a small mirror was held and gazed into it. Her facial features were sharp, angular, and dotted with scars from previous battles. A scar started at the bridge of her nose and moved left down the right side of her cheek and ended at her jaw line. She eyed a couple other scars that were much smaller, a prick here from an arrow that had gotten stuck in her visor, or a small slash there when she had a scuffle from her years roaming as a mercenary. She brought a gloved hand up and wiped her brow, wiping away the beads and dribbles of sweat that had accumulated on her brow, along with the few strands of her short cut hair that had fallen out of place. With the sweat wiped away and her hair back in place she looked over her biggest scar, and worst memory.