I didn’t stop to think.
Corvin’s smile was still sitting on my nerves. The way Mack had looked at Amelia, like she was already something they owned.
Brent was watching me.
I nodded once.
His mouth curved, just a little, like he had been waiting for it. He lifted his voice.
“Two on two,” he said calmly. “Training blades only. Disarm or force a ring-out!”
Recruits from everywhere turned. Someone snorted.
“Comedy show before dinner,” a voice muttered.
A few recruits snickered.
The sparring lanes were already rope-marked, neat rectangles laid out across the sawdust. Brent ignored the noise and pointed sharply at one of them.
“There. That lane.”
We moved.
He stepped in ahead of us and seized one of the boundary ropes, wrenching the post free with a hard twist. The peg tore out of the ground and the rope sagged.
“C’mon out the way.”
The nearby recruits shuffled back at once, boots scraping. No one argued.
He turned to us before we crossed the rope.
His eyes flicked to my hip.
“You should probably leave your sword where it is, Red.”
My body locked.
For half a heartbeat, all I could feel was the weight at my side.
Then the hum brushed my hand.
Low. Steady.
I glanced down.
The blade’s false sheen had already shifted inside its scabbard.
I eased it out an inch.
No depth. No black edge. Just pale wood and a blunted steel strip, scuffed and chipped like every other practice weapon on the racks.
A training sword.
Brent barked a short laugh. “Came prepared, then.”
Rob shot me a look, irritation flashing across his face.
Brent tossed him a training blade from a nearby rack.
Rob caught it and rolled his wrist, testing the balance.
His grin came back immediately.
“Much better.”
I kept my hand on Lumi’s hilt.
Isn’t that cheating? I asked quietly.
The answer slid through me, calm and infuriating.
“You are facing two trained barracks recruits with active blessings. I believe this restores fairness.”
…Right.
Fair.
Brent leaned closer, his voice dropping.
“Don’t get clever,” he said to both of us. “They spar every morning. Together. They’re used to working in pairs.”
He straightened.
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“And they won’t go easy on you.”
Across the circle, Corvin rolled his shoulders, loose and relaxed. Mack twirled his blade once, casual as breathing.
Their eyes never left Amelia.
My grip tightened.
This was not going to be quick.
And it sure as hell wasn’t going to be clean.
“Why are you two idiots doing this?” Amelia cut in. “I don’t need you fighting my battles.”
Rob and I both opened our mouths.
Brent beat us to it.
“First, Amelia,” he said lightly, “elemental magic isn’t common, and it isn’t strictly permitted in sanctioned barracks duels. Letting you cut loose in here would be irresponsible.”
A few nearby recruits snickered.
“And dangerous,” he added.
Then he smiled.
“And more importantly… this is a lesson.”
My eyebrow crept up.
“For who?” I asked.
Brent only shrugged and turned away.
“Positions.”
We followed.
As we ducked under the slack rope and stepped into the lane, I realised just how many people had gathered.
The entire cluster of recruits had drifted in, forming a loose ring around the ropes.
Brent swore under his breath.
“Back up. Back up, you idiots.” He shoved shoulders and elbows aside as he moved. “Clear the ropes.”
People retreated a few steps.
None of the interest faded.
Corvin and Mack strode in from the far side like they owned the ground. Relaxed. Loose. Comfortable with the space and the eyes on them.
They raised their free hands.
The crowd answered with a roar.
Corvin grinned and levelled his training blade at Rob.
“That one’s mine.”
I glanced sideways.
Rob wasn’t staring at Corvin.
He was staring at the crowd.
I nudged his hip with my boot.
“Oi. Focus.”
He blinked, then shook his head once.
“Yeah… yeah. I’m good.”
I leaned in close enough that only he could hear me.
“Remember what they said about Amelia.”
That did it.
The noise dropped out of his eyes. The crowd blurred. His jaw tightened.
Mack snorted and looked me up and down.
“Try not to piss yourself, Red.”
I didn’t rise to it.
A voice cut cleanly across the lane.
“Combatants.”
Brent stepped in behind us and clapped both of us on the shoulders, hard enough to jolt my balance.
“Good luck, you two,” he said quietly. Then, lower still, “and remember. They’re only recruits.”
Only recruits?
My jaw tightened.
I remembered the years of being on the wrong end of boys just like this. Bigger. Louder. Stronger. The ones who always knew exactly how far they could push before someone stepped in.
“Are you saying be nice?” Rob muttered.
Brent shook his head once.
“I’m saying, be careful,” he said. “They know how barracks matches really work. Watch for dirty tactics.”
Rob nodded.
Brent shoved us forward a step and we spread out, boots settling into the sawdust.
The bell rang.
Both recruits burst forward.
I barely had time to rip Lumi free before a training blade tore toward my head.
I caught it flat-on.
The impact jarred my arm up to the shoulder. His heavy sword slammed into the ground beside my foot, spraying sawdust.
He sneered and came again.
To my right, Rob turned his own opening exchange into momentum. His blessing flared faintly along his arms as he slipped past Corvin’s guard and drove him back two short steps.
My opponent swept in with a wide, ugly cut.
I met it.
Wood cracked.
A small chunk tore free from his practice blade as Lumi stopped it dead.
His eyes flicked down, just for a breath.
He was fast.
Not clean.
Strong, but sloppy.
I let him overreach.
Two beats later, I stepped inside his guard and snapped my blade into the base of his hilt.
He grunted, jaw tightening.
Then power surged.
A dense ripple slammed into my legs and hardened instantly around my boots, rooting me to the floor.
I was frozen.
My breath hitched.
He took the opening and kicked.
I folded with the impact and twisted away, shoulder slamming into the sawdust as the crowd roared.
Jeers rolled over me.
The blessing cast around my legs shattered and peeled away.
So…
That was how he wanted to play.
Fine.
I pushed up and moved straight back in.
He threw the binding blessing again.
This time, I was ready.
I swept Lumi through a tight arc and met the surge head-on.
The impact never reached me.
The power slid along the flat of the blade and vanished.
Mack’s eyes widened.
He didn’t see it get caught.
Only that it was gone.
The holding rune closed.
Lumi pulsed.
I turned the blade and released it.
The same dense force slammed into his legs and hardened instantly around his boots.
He swore.
I stepped in and drove my heel into his gut.
Air burst out of him in a wet grunt and he staggered back, nearly tripping over his own bound feet.
To my left, Rob was still pressing Corvin hard, driving him step by step toward the rope. It was obvious to everyone now. Rob’s swordcraft was cleaner. Faster. Better.
Corvin was running out of space.
Then he smiled.
He snapped his foot through the sawdust and kicked it up in a dirty cloud.
At the same time, his blessing flared.
The dust caught and twisted mid-air, blasting straight into Rob’s face.
Rob threw his guard up too late.
He coughed and stumbled.
Corvin slid in and chopped the back of his knee.
Rob’s leg buckled.
A flat strike snapped into his shoulder and sent him reeling toward the rope.
The crowd gasped as he tipped.
Rob drove his sword into the ground at the last second, stopping himself a hand’s width from falling out.
He hung there, one knee shaking, teeth clenched.
He was about to haul himself back in.
A boot shot out from the crowd and kicked his blade out from under him.
A referee’s whistle cut the noise.
“Out!”
The crowd split in its reaction.
Half laughter.
Half angry shouts.
It was suddenly clear the recruits weren’t nearly as unified as they pretended to be.
It didn’t help me.
Corvin turned back toward the ring, already hauling Mack to his feet.
Two of them.
One of me.
And now they weren’t pretending to fight clean.
