At the professor''s instruction, she stepped up across from Oliver, taking her position a few strides away from him, her hands on her sword. Around them, the sparring had already begun.


    Wood cked against wood in furious and irregr rhythms, and there was the asional grunt mixed in with it, as a strike slipped past a man''s guard, and the sword pped into the padded jerkins that they''d been forced to wear.


    Of course, Oliver was forced to wear the same thing. He''d taken off his jacket, and left it leaning against the wall with his shirt. He was too fond of it. It was such a fine piece of clothing, he still hadn''t gotten over how good it felt. Even the silken shirt that he wore underneath, he didn''t particrly want to sweat in it.


    But now that he''d found out there were stores on campus – clothing stores, at that – perhaps it wasn''t so big an issue. Oliver had already made a mental note that they would be worth checking out, if only for the sake of having more information on his surroundings.


    The woman across from him sprang suddenly, without warning. She was quiet on her feet, and quiet with her mouth – she hadn''t yet spoken a word to him. The professor watched – having walked a distance away – and shouted out amand "PAY ATTENTION, PATRICK! DON''T LET YOUR OPPONENT CATCH YOU OFF GUARD!"


    From another, it might have been tutge, but this man, Oliver was certain, simply had a grudge.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Regardless, no matter how fast the woman was, Oliver easily turned her strike aside, without the need to particrly exert himself. He was surprised by the strength behind it, for a woman.


    Her face betrayed the slightest hint of surprise, as she saw her unannounced sneak attack get so easily dealt with. Oliver couldn''t help but smile. A beautiful woman, for a certainty. He had to contain augh. Never in his life had things been sofortable that he could truly acknowledge the beauty of a woman, and merely enjoy the satisfaction of seeing something special.


    Now, with all these riches, all this power, all this opportunity, and only a void in his soul and the pain in his head to contend with, life was far toofortable. Enough to make him itch.


    ckthorn continued her attack. Her strikes were rapid. She used the rapier for its intended purpose, and unleashed a flurry of thrusts on him, with the asional sh mixed in to make him guess. He parried all her strikes carelessly. He was of the Second Boundary, after all, the gap between him – and likely every other student on campus – was unbelievably vast.


    ''The best female student?'' Oliver thought to himself with a smile. ''She''s good, I suppose…'' but even in thinking that, he could not helpparing her to N. This here was a refined noblewoman. Her attire was perfectly attended, her blue blouse neatly tucked, her ck skirt flowing out behind her, traces of makeup upon her skin. N was a different sort, borne of the wild, like a tigress.


    Even with all the ckthorn''s training, Oliver was sure that N''s bow outweighed the ckthorn''s sword by a ridiculous degree.


    ''The best they''ve got…'' he said again to himself, tutting. Anger was never far from the surface. He allowed his exchange with the ckthorn to extend into the minutes. He could have ended it all in one sweep. Is this what a noble education was? These beastscked ferocity.


    The ws he''d seen on the peasants that he''d fought with were far more impressive. They''d have done more with such training.


    "Fight me!" The girl said, her mask cracking, as annoyance radiated through.


    "Hah! The doll talks, does she? But not enough to introduce yourself? You nobles have bad manners," Oliver said back, merely continuing to parry her strikes, hardly shifting his feet. She darted all around him, like an eel.


    The girl went quiet again. ''Not fond of talking, this one,'' Oliver noted. He simply couldn''t help riling them up. This girl, Gargon, the prodding required to infuriate them, it was so dreadfully minimal, he couldn''t help but smile at the thought.


    But then with a start, as though it had a mind of its own, his sword suddenly struck out, mming with a thrust into the girl''s stomach. Light, or so Oliver thought, but he saw the pain in her eyes. Her movements dulled, she stepped back, struggling to stay upright.


    Guilt came with that. He''d intentionally held back, and yet… She didn''t look offended. She looked angry, infuriated that she''d lost. She covered up her pain, and came charging at him again.


    Suddenly, Oliver realized that this is what he must have looked like, in the eyes of Dominus. Along such a line of thought, his own actions ovepped with his master sopletely, that the idea of it almost distracted him enough frombat to let ckthorn get a hit in.


    The mischievous thing that he''d pulled on Gargon – that was exactly the sort of thing that Dominus would have done, even as he preached about the need for allies.


    Again, Oliver parried, and this time, he merely tapped her with his sword, enough to indicate the point, but not enough to wound. She nced down at his de, surprised by the speed of it. But Oliver was surprised at himself. So many different roles that he was forced to y, he was forgetting just who he was.


    He felt the gaze of Heathw from a distance, and a shout rang out towards him a momentter.


    "PATRICK! THIS IS SPARRING! BEHAVE LIKE A BRUTE AND ''LL PUT YOU WITH SOMEONE THAT WON''T STAND FOR IT!" Heathw shouted. Oliver found it amusing how it was now that the man shouted – when he''d all but tapped the girl.


    The girl nced in the direction of the professor, her eyes narrowed, and a faint blush of shame arose to her cheeks. It faded quickly though, as she returned to her anger, and rushed him in a new harry, releasing three rapid thrusts towards his stomach, doing her very best to slip past his guard.