33 - Iadra the Swordsman

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I am proud to face my brother.

Though I would have never imagined him to muster up the courage to face anyone, especially in a physical fight.

Seeing him grow up, he always shrank in the face of confrontation.

But today...

Even so, it was heartbreaking to see him.

He had an odd stance, unsteady feet, an unflattering posture, ill-fitting but very sturdy-looking armor, and the appearance that he may unintentionally drop his weapon at any time.

The weapon, specifically, he held in his hand, still in its black sheath, was similar to my own swords, with a slight curve and a white handle, gold adorning the guard.

I'm intrigued about how he got hold of this equipment because it appeared like it would be rather expensive, and I doubt Adran could keep it a secret where the money came from.

At any rate, in the past, he had never been a fighter, neither owning a single piece of armor nor a weapon.

He was always quite mild, preferring more cerebral challenges over more physical ones, like playing sports with other kids or getting into a friendly fight. This was true even when we were still very little.

If his shyness hadn't had such a strong hold on his demeanor, he would already have become one of Jento's most renowned intellectuals.

Up in the crowd, there was a very distinct woman. She was extremely loud and pestering, even right in this moment, she yelling at Adran.

And it seemed like he was listening to her.

"Who is that woman? She who believes herself to give you commands?" I asked Adran.

"It's either very complicated or not at all. All I know is that she is mad," he answered, as it has always been. He was lacking self-confidence.

Though his heart wasn't in this battle, it didn't follow that mine was either.

I will do as country, folk, and tradition demanded.

I sheathed my right sword to take a hold of my left one, in which I was just a little bit less proficient in.

"I will not be needing two. One strike and it'll be over. Can you last two, brother? I hope you will not disappoint."

I took a fighting stance to give him a moment to ready himself.

He fidgeted around, unsure what to do.

I lunged, slashing in his direction, and with a smooth motion, I sheathed my remaining blade.

Turning around to see my work, he was still standing, though motionless.

It took him a second to realize what had happened and in a surprised tone he exclaimed, "I'm still alive!"

There was just the tiniest cut on his cheek, with a drop of blood flowing from it.

"Come now, you didn't suppose that I would so heartlessly murder my own brother? I asked, repressing a chuckle, "I'll hold off until you at least take your weapon out of its sheath."

"ADRAN, YOUR BROTHER IS AN ASS," the loud woman exclaimed.

"It was not I who had brought him to this arena. It cannot be my fault for trying to fight him," I yelled back at her.

"It's hers," Adran whispered into the air.

"Brother," I yelled, trying to make him focus on me, "I will give you one chance, just one. I will wait until you're prepared before I strike, and I won't show any compassion this time. Do you understand?"

This time, I held both swords in my hands.

Slowly, and unsure of himself, he unsheathed his sword, letting the dark sheath fall on the dusty ground.

The sword had a stunning single-edged dark blue blade, and the hamon had a cloudy wavy design.

It appeared to be flowing with radiant energy, yet wherever it was held, the surroundings appeared to darken.


He was not accustomed to handling it, and his grasp on it was inadequate for a blade of its kind.

"Prepare," I said a last time.

As I held out both swords, time seemed to slow down ever so gradually.

With the respect a person of my own blood, the Arre, has earned, I will finish this battle with the dignity Adran deserves for summoning the bravery to stand in front of me in the most recognized event the land of Castirin has ever seen.

As dust rose and sparks flew through the air, the arena sand beneath my feet began to crystallize and change into ever-glittering crystals, and I was razing towards Adran.

[Storm's Path]

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