THE SWORD'S DANCE | HYUNBIN

❀lavish laurels❀

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ SOMETIMES HYUNJIN WANTED to run away, flee into the forest with only the wild birds and foxes to keep him company. Away from the crown. Away from responsibility. Away from life.

But he's stuck here. Under the shade of a tree's branches, watching the second day of fighting. It's, to put quite simply, boring.

Hyunjin appreciates the art of fighting. Not as much as Changbin, but he can admire talent. The pair tussling right now only has brute strength— not a shred of skill in sight. It was painful to watch, as if he was the one getting punched in the nose.

Blood soils the ground when one of the men twists his fighting partner's arm back. Their swords lie abandoned, coated in dust but not a single drop of blood. Fist-fighting. Not outlawed in the games, but seen as dirty and a cheap move.

"Enough!" The announcer calls out frantically, eyeing the elbow bent out of place. "I rule this match a tie. You're both incapable of fighting more."

"But— " the only slightly bloody one complains, his partner below him with a blossoming black eye.

The announcer gestures for them to leave. They obey, albeit reluctantly; trudging towards the medic.

"Next up is..." the crowd holds their breath, and so does the rest of the participants. "Seo Changbin and Choi Doyoon."

Hyunjin can't tell what he feels when he learns that he won't be fighting with Changbin. He's relieved, because battles with the knight are always challenging— but he enjoys them. The rush of adrenaline, the way he has to think. The way that anger that his mother always scolded him for transforms into skill with a sword.

He doesn't like Changbin, but he likes fighting with him.

The knight saunters into the designated fighting area, his strut confident. Oozing power. His sword— iron and leather, nothing special besides the vines carved into the leather hilt— swings at his side.

Choi Doyoon is older. Worn with the scars of battle. But the glint in his eyes is still burning strong, the unsheathed sword in his hand sharp. Hyunjin hasn't seen his fights personally, but it's obvious by his weathered appearance and high ranking that he has experience.

The fight hasn't even started, and Hyunjin knows that Changbin will win. It's a gut feeling.

"Three, two one, start!" The announcer signals.

Fast, so fast that his eyes can't pick it up, Changbin has already lunged. It's a technique of his, launching the first blow at the beginning, when his opponent isn't fully prepared for his speed.

Choi Doyoon counters, shakily. His sword wobbles, but it holds against Changbin's. He almost succumbed to the fast strike, but experience holds him up. The knight doesn't falter, countering it with another hit that sends Minho stumbling back.

Again, and again, Changbin's blade whirls in the air, a silver streak. Hyunjin leans forward, eager to watch every move. He can't deny that the knight is a genius with a sword.

Droplets of blood scatter the ground when Doyoon finally gets a strike against Changbin, grazing his arm. A thin strip of redness appears against the taunt muscles of the knight's forearm. The scratch isn't bad enough for the announcer to call off the fight. Sweat and blood drip off of Changbin, but he whirls his sword with a new intensity, forcing Doyoon back.

Doyoon counters, but Changbin's on a certain high right now, one made of adrenaline and the thought of victory— and he won't back down. Doyoon's sword is blocked with such force that it skids out of his hand, landing in the dust.