Warfire | Broken Time Series: Book Two

Chapter 14

"Brave and proud," General Byteron sneered as Nagan entered the ring, drawing his own sword from its sheath. "Combine that with a smart mouth, and you won't live to see Turn of the Year."

Nagan couldn't help but let out a snort. "That's not as much of a threat as you think it is."

His words didn't register to the general. Instead, he took a stance, Nagan doing the same, and shouted, "Begin!"

It was when the first set of strikes rang around the arena did the students realize just how real this was. It felt like a dream before, one that made your heart pound and caused you to writhe in your sleep, but at least you would wake up when it became too much. Here, however, it was all too real. The general's sword swept in a wide arc towards Nagan's middle, and the younger barely managed to step back in time, letting a small grunt of pain escape from his lips. He momentarily brushed his free hand across where the fabric was torn, only to pull it away stained with blood. The students watched in horror as the once-white shirt began to seep red, and the fight had only begun.

Nagan took a few steps back near the edge of the circle. A step further, and he would forfeit the match. He could practically hear Professor Fai scolding him, telling him he's allowing his opponent to force him back even further, but he needed a moment to think and absorb all he had witnessed within those few seconds. The general's arms were longer than his own, but something was preventing him from extending it fully. Perhaps a previous injury. His foot shifted in the direction of his swing, and he had much more experience in close combat. This was an unfair fight, but possibly one Nagan could win with speed and wit.

"Scared away from a scratch?" General Byteron jeered, only giving Nagan more time to think.

They began to circle each other as if it was a game of predator and prey before the general lunged. Nagan, having long since anticipated the attack, blocked and twisted around him to lead the fight towards the center.

The students witnessed blow after blow exchanged between the general and their champion, only to grow more and more anxious as small nicks and deep gashes cut across the young Dragonmage's body. The general fought on with barely a scratch. It was clear this was a battle between someone with the will to kill against another with no intention to harm.

Many glances were thrown in Professor Fai's direction, each watching to see when — or if — he would step in. His arms were crossed tight and his hands gripped into his skin as he watched keenly, yet he made no movements to stop the fight in the first place. He held an unreadable expression.

A cry was heard, and everyone's attention snapped back to the duel. The cry hadn't come from either of the fighters, however, but from someone in the crowd.

Nagan was crouched to the ground, and his sword hovered just beside the general's calf. Both seemed to have frozen in shock. Quite the grievous wound it could have been if Nagan had completed the swing.

A bark of laughter burst out of Nagan's mouth from elation and surprise, and it sparked a small cheer from the students. He won! He actually won!

Or so he thought. A sudden movement caught his attention, and he jerked his head up. General Byteron's sword gleamed as it was raised above his head. His face was the picture of fury. This wasn't over.

Realizing the danger he was in, Nagan tried to scramble to his feet, only to slip on the loose ground. He raised his sword in futile, knowing a downward slash like this would break through his guard in an instant, and covered his head with his other arm. He could only hope he would survive a blow like this.

The sound of steel against steel rang above him.

But nothing had hit his sword.

Nagan gasped, taking in much-needed air after holding his breath. His heart pounded in his chest, and his arms ached while still being held up in defense. What happened?