Gunthar straightened.
The damage was already undoing itself... slow, but undeniable. Muscle pulling together. Blood sealing.
The heat around him intensified, snow melting in a widening ring beneath his feet.
He looked between them.
Then he inclined his head slightly.
"A fair hunt," he said. "I'd almost forgotten what that felt like."
Dave levelled the lance. "Young ones are fierce these days."
Edric stepped in beside him, sabres low and ready.
"Yeah," he said. "Making old men run around."
Gunthar's smile widened.
"Good," he said softly. "Then run."
He surged forward.
The ground cracked beneath his first step, stone fracturing outward in a spiderweb.
Heat rolled off him now, not in waves but in a constant pressure, like standing too close to an open furnace.
Dave braced instinctively, shield angled, lance low.
Edric split wide to the right.
They moved without looking at each other.
Dave went first... not to strike, but to claim space.
The shield slammed forward, forcing Gunthar's attention, the lance darting in quick, snapping thrusts meant to keep him honest. None of them aimed to kill yet.
They were testing distance.
Timing.
Reaction.
Gunthar flexed his healed arm, studying them with mild curiosity.
"This is fun," he said, looking at the blooming red blood, with the fascination of a child watching a new toy.
His eyes... still white, still empty of warmth... lifted to Edric.
"You cut well, Baron."
Edric rolled his shoulders, sabres steady in his hands.
"And you protect your neck," he replied. "Every time."
Gunthar smiled.
Dave leaned slightly toward Edric. "Still sharp, my lord."
Edric nodded once.
Gunthar tilted his head.
"Old soldiers," he murmured. "Always so difficult to finish."
Edric stepped forward, sabres lowering into a duellist's guard.
The heat around Gunthar surged.
Snow evaporated at his feet.
He smiled wider.
Edric adjusted his grip on the sabres, wrists loosening, shoulders sinking lower. His stance changed... less guarded now, more forward. The posture of a man who had decided that retreat was no longer part of the equation.
Dave shifted beside him, shield planted, lance angled diagonally across his body.
"Ready for the pivot?" Dave asked, voice calm despite the blood on his sleeve.
Edric nodded once, eyes locked on the target they'd identified. "I'll draw his guard. You find the gap."
Gunthar listened.
He always did.
"That confidence," he said mildly. "It's admirable. Wasteful... but admirable."
He moved.
Sudden.
The ground cracked where he launched, stone exploding outward as he crossed the distance in a heartbeat. Dave met him head-on, shield braced, lance thrusting low and hard for the abdomen.
Gunthar twisted sideways at the last instant. The lance scraped along his ribs, drawing blood, and he seized the shaft with one hand, wrenching it down.
Dave didn't fight the pull; he stepped in with the motion to keep his grip
Edric was already there.
The left sabre cut for the thigh, the right for the shoulder, blades flashing in a precise, intersecting rhythm meant to overwhelm reaction time.
Gunthar blocked the first with his forearm…bone rang against steel…and ducked under the second, shoulder slamming into Edric's chest.
Edric staggered back two steps.
Dave filled the space.
Shield-first, hard enough to crack ribs. The lance followed, driving in a tight arc toward Gunthar's neck.
Gunthar caught the lance between his palms.
The wood exploded.
Splinters burst outward, embedding in Dave's arm and cheek. Gunthar kicked the shield aside and drove a palm strike into Dave's chest that lifted him clear off his feet.
Dave hit the ground and rolled, coughing, armour dented inward.
Edric didn't give Gunthar the breath to follow.
He stepped in close... dangerously close... sabres flashing in short, vicious cuts meant to take fingers, wrists, tendons. Gunthar bled again, shallow lines opening across his arms and torso, each one sealing seconds later.
Gunthar laughed.
Amused.
He grabbed Edric's right wrist mid-swing and twisted, bone grinding in protest. Edric let go of the sabre rather than fight the lock, spun with the motion, and slashed upward with the left.
Steel bit deep into Gunthar's shoulder.
Gunthar snarled and headbutted him.
The impact sent stars across Edric's vision. He stumbled back, blood running down his brow, breath momentarily lost.
Dave was back on his feet.
He threw his shield.
Angled.
The shield hummed through the air, that cut a path through the steam.
Edric lunged.
He drove his remaining sabre in a desperate, two-handed thrust for the throat. Gunthar crossed his arms instinctively, but the angle was too sharp.
Steel buried itself into flesh.
Deep.