The spear man was not as big as the Viking, barley reaching to his shoulder if he is to stretch his toes, his right gripped his wooden long handle while the other held the small shield by the side, the king's gaze was cold, waiting for the bell to ring, the moment the blood was cleaned from the floor, and the gates fell down on them leaving death alone to be the judge, the bell rang
The big man wasted no time thinking, his left stepped forward sideways raising his hands in defence and preparation, his right struck downwards painting its first blow, it was its own bell shaking the both the ground and the air
The Sigel knight managed to avoid it with ease, stepping to the Slave's right that had its weapon stuck in the ground, he stabbed forward thinking this huge boulder isn't as swift as he is strong, a grave mistake, the giant released his metallic Club, and with his right gripped the strike pointed at his heart as he stepped to his own right
Bending down a bit he picked his weapon fast waving it to the upper side of his opponent, the Sigel Knight, but it did not end there, the knight used his wooden shield to try and guide the strike upwards, at the cost of losing that tool of defence
The impact shattered it to pieces, the knight wasting no time spun his weapon creating heat and making some pieces of it shatter to shards piercing the slave's palm, it worked as the Viking ungripped the weapon on instinctively, staring his own bloody hand, the unharmed knight in front of him, although he made him lose a weapon
The king staring down at them shared his thought with the great reader of the Varish Kingdom Brone, "I guess that is why he wished his weapon's gripe to be of sturdy wood and not iron, at first I thought he was being cheap"
"These little things are what separate him from the normal self-named knights after all, it is never about strength and speed alone" replied Brone
"Do not worry, he does have them too" replied the king his gaze focused on the battle bellow
The knight using both his hands to hold the spear up to his chest level, it had a narrow head, it was specifically made for parrying, achieving both agility and speed, it made of expensive light and sturdy wood
The spear's head looked as if sprouting from the long handle, leaving no escaping edges, if not for the colour difference you would think of it as one object carved into this shape
The Viking stepped forward carefully, just to wave his iron sideways, it just went by, most people did not notice it, some thought that strike would be the last, but no scratch on the Sigel knight, although the sound of iron was heard,
The Viking looked as if he knew what had happened so he waved again, this time some people paid enough attention and understood it, the knight was directing the hits away, utilising his weapon to make them flow away as if sliding, it looked more as if it danced in his hands, but with each hit the opponents weapon sharpened the knight's
When the Club reached the spear's iron it made red sparkled, leaving it with a faint red colour, the heat was the reason, many hits went by, the pointy head grew hotter and hotter, red as blood it was, though no blood spilled yet
The Viking seeing himself becoming the knight's blacksmith tried hitting downwards at a sudden fake attack, but it was all empty effort, the knight moved to the slave's side, hitting him in the thigh, it was a swift strike, but it cut deep inside
"That is why he was creating heat, I see, smart indeed" said Lord Brone, the great reader
"Would you explain?" asked the king his interested eyes fixated on the scene bellow
"The same way doctors heat their knifes before cutting a wound open with ease, the knight used that to make creating deep wound much easier" replied lord Brone
The knight moved back, as if awaiting his opponent to stand up, but he was still in reach so the slave struck sideways as the Club was going up, trying to catch him off guard, but he danced under it his weapon being his back's shield, then he slashes upwards
The left shoulder of the slave covered in blood, the slave almost fell but he used his right that was holding the weapon to make a crutch out of it, his left was only failing him so he did not focus on trying to hold it up, it dangled down dripping blood and sweat
Using his left feet to keep his balance he waved once more, he did not accept defeat, nor did he beg for his life, he just kept trying awaiting one of them to fall, although deep inside he knew it was him
The knight used the shallow strikes to heat his pointy head more as he struck down and up, some hits were deep, others were only there to spill more blood, making sure he made no fatal injuries, he look at the defeated opponent in front of him, both knees on the ground, the hands joining them, sitting in a pool of his own blood as colour disappeared slowly from his face
The armless slave that was caged with the big ones back at the carriages stared down at the body, he looked angry, worried, frustrated, but the knight did not give him any attention
He looked at the king awaiting the order, should he end it or not, the king merely moved his head in agreement, the knight planted his in the neck, then removed it, the body fell flat in its own blood, eyes closing slowly
He left his opponent as he went out, taking some water to clean the blood off him, in wish none of it was his own, as the crowd clapped for him alongside their king
"This, is the difference between a Sigel knight and a normal one" said the king Gerdon to lord Brone while both of them clapped
"You are right Indeed my lord, although these slaves grew hungry and stiff from the treatment they had, they still packed enough strength to hold their grounds," replied Lord Brone
The king noticed the armless slave that was in the dangerous cage type, he was glaring at him from the moment the big one died while knocking slowly and hard at the bars that held him trying to get the king's attention
"Yes, yes, but why is that armless as dangerous as the other 3? I know the 3 of them are the biggest so they need carriages of their own, but why him?" asked King Gerdon
"He is the most stubborn, he lost one hand in battle and continued to fight the guards of his slavery camp using the working tools, they ended up cutting his other, they say he was some commander of theirs" replied Lord Brone
"Commander, you say, then let's test him" said king Gerdon waving to his son's leaving warrior, the spear man, while the guard opened the gate of
"Wouldn't you want a different warrior to try this time?" said Lord Rafam, the heir to the crown
"I still wish to see what tricks the spear man Is hiding, plus him being tired a bit will give the disabled a chance"
The knight wished not to take a shield with him, although the armless did wrap two over what was left of his hands, tightening the belts as much as he can
He inspected his surroundings from all the way up beside the crossbows, to the cell's bellow, the big body beneath was dragged out
One with a long spear, and the other holding two shields
"That is a smart choice that I understand, disabling the spears heat source by picking wood, and making his weapon a shield making use of his disability as much as he could," said King Gerdon
"And it is in his favour that he only lost up to the wrist of his arme, for he will have a good enough reach" replied Lord Brone
The floor was wiped, and the ground once more is ready, the Knight held his weapon dangling from his arme, he looked full of confidence,
The bell rang, the slave threw the first shield, he just used his hand as a whip, the shield sliding from his arme, for there was no palm to stop it, it went flying, the knight moved sideways, his eyes focused on the centre of the shield, he tried to heat up his blade's tip, but the shield went away, it hit a cell far away then came flying to the centre
It went behind the armless Viking that was dushing towards the knight, the spear user looked surprised for he did not hear his steps nor did he expect such speed from an unbalanced body
He tried to slash sideways but the knight for the first time got parried, the Viking used his weapon to direct the strike up, leaving the stomach empty, he hit with his torn arme the chest plat of the enemy
The knight's armour bore a deep dent from the force of the hit it had to deal with, the knight spat out some salvia from the force of the hit as he almost fainted for a moment, before regaining his composer just to see the shield coming the direction of his nose
His upper body went back as blood flew alongside his falling helmet making his face defenceless, he did back flip trying to create distance but, the slave was on his tale, the armed soldier could only defend himself
"I am, being directed?" though the knight, as they reached the shield that was thrown earlier, the Viking threw the shield he had in hand as a distraction to the knight who was begging for a sharpening tool, he tried doing so avoiding it in the air, and again it hit another cell before going somewhere on the field
Whilst the knight was busy with that, the slave had already tightened the shield around his hand and started running, the knight without hesitation pointed the tip of his weapon making it touch the ground as he ran towards him, he used the solid ground to sharpen his before slashing keeping his distance
Sadly, his idea came to late, the slave had the superior skills and speed, parrying his strike and kicking him in the leg making fall on his knee, punching him in the face with the side of his shield, the spear fell down as he got unconscious for a moment
When he managed to get back his strength another hit came falling on his face, one after another they came raining him with his own blood, the sound of bones cracking after each one created true was horrifying, A Sigel knight losing to a slave? and a disabled one at that, there is under a 50of these knights across both kingdoms and all great houses
The Viking with cold gaze bearing no hate hit once after another, until there was no reaction
The king stood up clapping whilst the crowd was still in shock, they soon joined him just because
"Very good! Very good work indeed, give me your name great warrior, I have an offer you can't possibly refuse," said King Gerdon
The lords beside looked at him with surprise, although they knew what he wanted to say they did not expect such haste in it
A guard from a far approached, he stood down enough to be on the lowest level of the audience seats, and high enough to be above both the slaves and the cross-bow users who stood in holes inside the pit
"My lords!?" said the guard holding a weird ball upwards, it had thick string wrapped around it, both the slaves, and the nobles saw it in his hands, although the slaves looked shocked whilst the rest looked confused and interested
"Don't you see me talking, what is that you are holding" said king Gerdon
"We found this inside the big slave's clothes of leather" replied the guard
The king wanted to speak but he noticed the slave that just won going to puke, holding his shield like a bucket for what might got out, and indeed, a similar ball fell out of his mouth, he dropped it to the ground, cross bow users pointed at him and spoke
"Move back at once", but then a cell that got hit by the shields before, wish held back one of the big slaves made a loud sound, the slave left it, all crossbows pointed at him, he fell to his knees and started puking forcibly too, another cell wish held the same erupted
The king confused watched, the guard squeezed what he held in hand, and just then smoke broke out of it, covering all of the pit and most of the nobles, people started coughing, but from the white smoke 3 other balls flew
Big chunks of smoke sprouted from each of them, the safest place in this part of the lands became the most dangerous, screams of the guards were heard, the king was escorted out of there, his son followed, the great reader followed right after him after a moment passed
It took some time for the cloud in the pit disappeared, revealing the cells empty, no slave in sight, the people gathered beside the king as they found light in that white darkness, they were held hostage in
Everybody was looking down at the pit, until a made screamed, Torden looked at her direction
Eyes were directed at the same sight, the whispers faded in shock, Both Torden's and his brother Fraymon's faces turned pale, their father had an open mouth and wide eyes, alongside their grandmother, the moon reflected
Their mother had a rusty old knife deep inside here skull, she was cold dead sitting in here chair, she did not have time to even stand up, no one was harmed except for her