By the time they got back to the Guildhall, Eres was starting to worry again.

  Myla had strode through the streets without a care in the world, stopping once in a while to look at trinkets or stalls, chattering away with Freya. The three men had headed off apart from them, but Eres was sure they were already waiting at the Guildhall, sharpening weapons and getting ready for the duel. He knew how strong Myla was, hells, in a stand-up fight with just weapons he knew he wouldn’t have a chance in hell.

  That didn’t stop him worrying, though.

  They were turning the corner past the mayor's house when she finally turned to him, all blonde hair and smiles. “Eres, I can hear your brain working overtime from back here. I’m going to be fine.”

  “I know, I know,” Eres huffed, undoing and retying his hair as he walked. He knew it was a nervous habit, but it made him feel better so he decided to just let his hands wander in the repetitive motion for now. “I’m not trying to be overprotective or anything, and I know damn well how good of a fighter you are, but I am allowed to worry, Myla. It just feels wrong for you to fight them over this. A pointless risk.”

  Myla’s nostrils flared out as she glared at Eres, and he realised he had made a mistake.

  “Pointless?” She raged, poking him in the chest. The shy girl who could barely meet his eyes was all but gone, and he only now realised it. “Do you even know why I am fighting them? Have you thought it through? It is because they insulted you. Freya and I, unfortunately we just have to get used to it. Men look down on us. Most of the time it sucks, but sometimes it is useful. So when people look down on me, it's fine. But when they look down on the man I-”

  She stumbled for a second, cheeks flushing red as her eyes dropped. “The man I am choosing to follow, then that isn’t just me, it's all of us. And while watching you beat their asses around a ring would be satisfying, I know you wouldn’t want to do it, because pride isn’t important to you. But this is important to me. Understood?”

  “Understood,” Eres said as he slowly nodded. He hadn’t thought that far ahead, about why she was doing this or what her reasons were, only that he hadn’t wanted her to get hurt. He let out a sigh and felt a rueful grin light up his face. He dropped a hand on top of the little blonde woman's head and ruffled it back and forth a little. “Thanks for sticking up for me, hon. Let’s go give ‘em hell.”

  Myla’s smile was shy, this time. She was back to the girl that blushed and could barely meet his eyes, but as they turned to the Guildhall, he saw the confidence pour into her, that pride blossoming once more.

  A shy Berserker and a flirty Priest, Eres thought with a chuckle. Now, if I find myself a bloodthirsty Defender, we have all the makings of a “walk into a bar” joke.

  The Guildhall had gotten busier in the few hours since they had left it. More groups were sitting at the tables, drinking and eating, and more of the partitioned squares had been filled. Some were crafting, others sparring, and some seemed to be locked deep in discussion. Eres watched warily, but followed Myla as she bee-lined over to Gap-tooth and his cronies.

  Gap-tooth stood at the edge of one of the sand-silled squares, an axe in either hand as he bounced from foot to foot and rotated his wrists back and forth to limber them up. Eres was surprised to see that it was the sharp axes from his belt, and turned a questioning eye towards Freya. She shrugged and hurried over to one of the desks and came back with a relieved look on her face.

  “The sands are enchanted. Once you leave them, any damage that isn’t death will heal, like time turning back. Leaves the injured one tired as hell though apparently, so they are only allowed to be used once a week. If they just wanted to spa,r it would be practice weapons in one of the other sections, but as this is a challenge…” Freya explained, hands twisting into the fabric of her shirt.

  “Since it is a challenge, we fight as if it were for real,” Myla finished, taking her place on the other side of the sand. “Don’t worry, it isn’t to the death, and I don’t intend to bleed much.”

  “Of course you don't,” Eres laughed, starting to swirl his Mana around. “You said something about a weapon? I can recreate your Great-Spear easy enough-”

  “Oh, could I be a little… I don’t know, cheeky?” Myla asked, cheeks flushing again. “I wanted to get more practice in with a Greatsword. Polearms are amazing for monsters, but I find it easier to parry weapons with the blade on a sword.”

  Eres cocked an eyebrow. Clearly, she had done even more training with Brom than they had let on if she was comfortable using multiple types of weapons. He nodded at her and concentrated on a mental image, feeling the Mana in him push back and forth like a tide as he formed it. “One big-ass sword, coming up.”

  The weapon formed with the tip braced against the floor, growing until the pommel came to just under her chin. Its blade was over a metre long, with an unsharpened section near the sloping guard for half swording. There were small frills and designs along the crossguard, and Eres belatedly realised he had created a supersized sword from his old life, a Claymore.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Myla hefted the weapon, watching as the blade went from translucent purple force to a more solid-looking material resembling metal, though still tinged with the purple of Eres’ magic.

  “Balance is good,” she murmured, rolling the blade with her wrists into a few simple shapes around her. “Thanks, Eres, this should work great.”

  Gap-tooth and his friends were still staring dumbly at the conjured blade when Myla stepped forward onto the stand. She wasn’t wearing any of her armour, just simple travelling clothes, but she still looked every bit the warrior she was with sword in hand.

  A small man with a shock of white hair stepped towards the edge of the sand, and his voice rolled out at a surprisingly deep pitch as he looked over both fighters. “I am the Judge of this duel. As with all Guild duels and challenges, this fight will be to incapacitation or surrender. If your opponent dies, you will be charged with murder if it is decided that there was any intent. Other than that, as in a Dungeon, there are no rules; excepting that no one outside of the sand may interfere. Do you understand?”

  Both combatants nodded, Gap-tooth finally stepping forward onto the sand. Eres nodded towards the Judge and allowed his Mana to settle back into his Core. He knew Myla would be fine, but he wanted to minimise the chance he would panic and interfere.

  Myla stared at Gap-tooth, small smile still on her face and sword held across her centre line, almost completely still. He hopped back and forth from foot to foot in a near-perfect contrast to her calm, lip curling into a snarl.

  “Ready? Begin!” the Judge called, voice booming across the entire Guildhall.

  The small blonde woman's explosion into forward motion could only be described as violent. She dashed across the sand and swung the claymore wide, cutting across her body and towards Gap-tooth’s chest. It was only his already being in motion that let him stumble back quickly enough that he only got a fine line cut across the patch of chest just above his armour, a thin red line appearing on the skin.

  By the time he was on his feet, Myla had stepped back to give him space to rise to his feet, watching him with her head cocked slightly to one side. He rose from the sand and roared, taking quick strides towards her as his axes rose above his head for a fierce overhead blow. Both axes came down fast, crashing towards Myla’s collarbones. Eres wasn’t sure if he had forgotten they weren’t supposed to be killing each other or just considered an attack like this fair play, but he still felt his breath hitch in his throat.

  Then the axes cut through the empty space where she was supposed to be, and the soft whump sound of air being forcibly expelled from someone's lungs found its way into everyone's ears. Myla stood to one side of Gap-tooth, pommel of the sword still against his sternum as she pivoted away from the blunt strike she had just delivered.

  The tip of her blade sang as it sliced through the air and caught in the back of the man's armour, once again only barely cutting deep enough to draw blood before she stopped the strike and backed off. She spun the sword at her side and once again settled back into the stationary guard she started in, and waited. It was plain to see that she could have pressed her advantage and perhaps won the fight there and then, but instead she waited until her opponent had turned to face her and gotten back into a guard before she moved.

  It was a slow, circling walk this time. Both of them moved in opposite directions, slowly walking clockwise around the sand-filled ring. Gap-tooth was panting, but his axes were up in a proper guard now rather than just being held high and ready to swing. Myla held her guard across her body and continued her smooth and calm walk, until it became too much for her axe-wielding opponent.

  Sand burst from the ground as he rushed towards her, one axe lashing out to try and hook her blade and the other swinging out at chest height. Myla pivoted away from the strikes, but misjudged the distance, and as they stood apart again, Eres could see blood dripping from a cut on her upper arm. It didn’t look deep, but he still felt his gut clench at seeing her bleed.

  Eres’ reaction was nothing compared to Myla’s, though. Before Gap-tooth could even start the jeering he seemed to be revving up too, Myla began to laugh. It started as a little chuckle but eventually rose to a crescendo, the laughter high and clear, reminding Eres of the ringing of struck glass. She wiped the blood away with a finger and ran it over the blade of her weapon, and Eres felt his Mana pulse in response.

  He was still trying to work out what the hell had happened when he heard the ring of blades in the ring again. Myla had surged forward and was now parrying strike after strike of the axes, using the tip of her sword to constantly nick and cut her opponent's skin until he was covered in tiny spots of blood, where she was still only bleeding from the one wound. He seemed panicked, his swings getting wilder and less controlled, becoming easier and easier for Myla to parry, counter or dodge.

  When Myla knocked one of the axes from his hand, he was ready to surrender, but she struck before he could get the words out. She moved faster than Eres had ever seen her move, stepping past him and pirouetting with her sword held low. The blade screamed through the air as it moved, silencing as it met the flesh across the back of Gap-tooth's thighs. An arc of crimson flew from the sword as she finished her movement and began walking back towards Eres and Freya, her eyes wide and breath coming a little too quickly.

  “Myla wins this challenge!” boomed the Judge, as Gap-tooth’s lackeys dragged him off the sand. He had fallen unconscious, but Eres watched all of the little wounds covering him disappear as if they had never been there, even the blood staining the sand vanishing between one blink and the next.

  By the time she had reached them, Myla was looking shy and sheepish again. It was the first time Eres had seen this bloodthirsty side to her, but he had to admit knowing she could be brutally efficient when the situation called for it helped him feel more confident in letting her handle issues like this.

  “I worked it out!” Myla’s voice was nearly a whisper as she drew near them, but it shook with excitement. “It needed blood, but it was mine as well as theirs! At least, I think so!”

  “Myla, hon,” Eres said quietly, putting his hand on her shoulder so she would meet his eyes. “We don’t know what you are talking about. What needed blood?”

  “My Spirit Art!” Myla gushed, eyes still wide, and a giddy smile rushed onto her face. “I think I managed to use my Spirit Art!”