Crack! My arm throbbed as I hastily blocked Derek''s first attack on my shield. With hardly any notice, he had himself launched at me with abandon. Even with the extra moments my gift afforded me, I found myself barely able to match his pace. Derek fought with extreme aggression, but he was calm and collected; his blows rained down on me, thunderous clangs ringing out as I blocked each one with my shield. I stabbed forward at every opening that I found, but opportunities were few. As the battle raged, I scored two shallow cuts, one on the left side of his chest just after blocking a brutal diagonal slash and another on the back of his calf after a particularly well-timed dodge. Derek had yet to draw blood, but my arm was numb from blocking his swings, and he was forcing me to maintain a defensive posture. We continued trading blows for several minutes, which felt like an hour considering the amount of focus and ongoing strain required to keep up with each other''s deadly pace. There were occasional gasps and encouraging shouts from our spectators, but I could hardly hear them through the ringing of metal against metal and the internal directions I gave myself.
Duck! Block left! Jab! Step back!
Soon, my arms were coated with sweat and dirt that had been kicked up from the dusty ground. My hands ached from the blisters that had formed throughout the day. Each block strained my body, and each offensive maneuver wore at my endurance. Nonetheless, I kept a calm and determined facade, knowing that the psychological battle was just as important as the physical. A powerful blow pushed the edge of my shield into my scalp. I felt a warm liquid that I assumed was blood stream down my forehead annoyingly close to my left eye. I did my best to shake it off, blinking away the irritation. Whatever injuries I sustained, I would be healed afterward. This wasn''t a test of perfection. It was a test of ingenuity, adaptability, and endurance.
In truth, I was rather pleased with the battle. There really was something thrilling about pushing to the edge of my strength. I had to fight for every advantage, strain for the upper hand, and persevere against the relentless fury of my opponent. But as the fight wore on, it was almost as if Derek''s movements became quicker and sharper as mine slowed. It was becoming harder and harder to find chances to counterattack. I had scored a few more glancing blows, but they were mild annoyances at best. The fight was going to come down to one deciding attack, and I was becoming less and less capable of landing the kind of strike that would bring the battle to its end. All the while, Derek maintained a cool, collected visage. My heart thumped in my chest like hooves pounding the ground in an all-out sprint.
Worry began to creep into my mind. Was that going to lose this battle? The momentary distraction caused an opening in my defense. Like a serpent, Derek lunged forward, sensing weakness, his sword hungry for blood. With great effort, I managed to throw myself to the side, taking only a shallow cut on my shoulder. Just like that, I was stirred from my stupor, berating myself for becoming distracted in the heat of battle. I redoubled my focus, realizing that any chance I had would only come if I managed to get back on the offensive. Taking a risk, I lunged forward even as Derek swung down on my shield. Sensing that my blade would reach him first, Derek managed to change his momentum and step to the side before regaining his balance. I grinned; though I missed, I had forced him to take a defensive stance for the first time. Derek didn''t have a shield. If I forced him to defend, he wouldn''t be able to attack. It was clear to me that Derek had relied on a good offense to avoid the consequences of wielding a two-handed weapon defensively. Derek had reach, momentum, and offensive capabilities that any shield wielder would envy. But what he didn''t have was flexibility. He couldn''t attack and defend at the same time.
Without hesitating, I charged, swinging my short sword in a wide arc toward my opponent''s left shoulder; as anticipated, he raised his own sword at an angle to block. Then, with a shout, I pivoted, shifting my weight, stopping my sword short, and stepping forward with my right foot. I felt the air shift as my opponent''s sizeable sword passed by me in a hasty counter-attack, moving through the space where my sword had been. Too slow. A look of bewilderment entered Derek''s eyes just before I slammed the edge of my shield into his face. The blow crashed onto Derek''s head, causing him to reel and fall onto his back. Knowing that I only had a moment before he would be back on his feet, I sprang into action and thrust my sword into his rib cage. Pulling out the sword, I went for another strike when I heard our instructor''s voice pierce the clearing.
"That''s enough!" she yelled with enough force to stay my hand. That''s when I realized my sword had been heading straight for Derek''s throat. I jumped back, grim satisfaction forming on my face. My heart was racing so fast that I could barely catch my own thoughts over the sound of blood pumping in my ears. I sunk to the ground, unsteadied by the bloodlust that had clouded my judgment.
Master Jin, the Healer, was already by Derek''s side when I opened my eyes. Sophia held her hand out, offering to help me up. She looked at me with knowing eyes, but didn''t seem particularly concerned. Something about that calmed me. The inner voice that bayed for blood was gone. It had been replaced with one of accusation. I had won, yes, but I had let my control slip—and not just my control. My conscience. Sophia''s nonchalant reaction took some of the validity from that second voice, but it did not fade out. Not entirely. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
"That was excellently done, Steven." She squeezed my hand. "Don''t beat yourself up too much; every warrior experiences the thrill of battle. The task of a knight is to rule the heart with the mind."
I nodded before quickly adding, "Yes, ma''am. Thank you." Then she lifted my hand yelled, "Steven is your new monarch; if you wish to challenge his claim, now is your opportunity." I did my best to keep my jaw from hanging open in surprise. I felt exhausted, and now she was saying that someone could come and rechallenge me. Donning a mask of fierce resolve, I stared into the eyes of peer after peer, daring them to step forward. My eyes landed on Kate as she stood, and for a moment, it looked like she would call my bluff, but after watching me for a few seconds, she nodded, and settled back without a word.
"Well, it seems like you have thoroughly scared off the competition, Steven. Not that I''m too surprised after that last match." Turning to the rest of the crowd, she presented me to them once again, this time as their monarch. The placement was now final, and any further challenges would constitute treason. The pressure of the day began to lift as I considered what to do next. Up to that point, I had kept my focus solely on the battles ahead. Now I had to shift perspective to strategies both political and social, alongside a practical plan to overtake the other nations.
"Everyone, if I could have your attention…" Sophia began again. "Now that everyone has competed, it is time to determine your class hierarchy. Steven will be your monarch until the next tournament, set at the end of this year. As the monarch, he will be given special privileges, along with duties and responsibilities that will weigh heavy on his shoulders. His ability to bear them well will largely decide your fate as a nation. Help him shoulder the burden, and you will do well. His first duty is to set the direction of the class, serving as the general in any class-to-class skirmishes, and planning your strategy for success in the tournament. As for the lords, only two students held a record of four wins throughout the day: Kate and Derek. Lords will instruct their assigned knights, carry out orders from the monarch, provide him with counsel, and manage various practical functions of your simulated country.
Four knights will be appointed, and as of this moment, five of you had three wins throughout the day. In order to settle the appointments, we will have several duels between the lot of you. Could the five contenders for knighthood please step forward?"
Several people made their way through the crowd to stand in the center of the clearing. I was pleased to see that I recognized them all— Duck, Jack, Liz, Brad, and Mira. Seeing Brad, an idea began to form in my mind. It was common knowledge that a single faithful ally had served our monarch and several lords closely throughout our nation''s history. These men were often referred to as armorbearers, and their primary responsibility was to serve as the companion and confidant of the lord or monarch. Not wanting to waste any time, I decided to voice my thoughts.
"If I may, instructor…"
Sarah looked at me and nodded. "Yes, Steven?"
"In the history of Meritas, it is common for leaders to call a trusted companion to their side—a confidante with his monarch''s blessing. Would this be appropriate for our purposes?" I asked.
She looked at me thoughtfully, a spark of appreciation in her eyes. "You know the histories well, King Steven." I smiled at the title, even if it was mine only in the tournament. "That would indeed be appropriate," Sarah continued. "Who do you have in mind?"
"If he is willing, I would call Brad to be my armorbearer.". Both of us turned our attention to Brad.
"Well, Brad. Will you bear the King''s burdens by his side" Sarah asked.
"I don''t know…" Brad began thoughtfully, a grin forming on his face, before more seriously adding, "I would be honored to be the friend of the king."
"Very good." Sophia declared. "With that settled, the rest of the five are now your new knights. King Steven, I give you Sir Jack, Sir Duck, Sir Mira, and Sir Liz. The role of a knight is to lead individual squadrons into battle during times of war and to manage assigned regions in the country when off of the battlefield. These responsibilities will be determined by Steven and his lords in the days to come." She paused and took a good look at us before moving on.
"As for the rest of you, you will serve as soldiers under the leadership of your assigned knights, under the command of your lords, and under the rule of your king. Remember that this school is a military academy. You are being prepared to serve in the country''s military. Achieving status in the hierarchy may have its advantages now, but each of you will have to prove your merit in leadership and battle prowess if you want to rise higher int he ranks of the real army down the road."
With that, our instructor started making her way back toward the wagon before pausing and turning around, as if she''d remembered something important. "Oh, and I will need all of your weapons back. Until you manage to make your own, you will be supplied with simple weapons like these only in simulated war efforts. Now I take my leave. I will see you again in three days'' time. Direct any questions to your monarch, and, if he wishes, your lords. They are your commanders now."
I frowned; I hadn''t been given any more information than the rest of the group. I felt the mantle of leadership settle heavy on my shoulders then. I turned to my lords, and saw the same realization in their eyes. Responsibility rested on us now. There was no turning back. Good, I thought as I looked around at my new soldiers and grinned; I doubted they had any idea what I had in store for them.