The spectators of the match all felt like they were hit by a sucker punch.
Everything about me, from the way I walked to the way I looked and talked gave the feeling of a young man that would rather kill himself than actually pick up a blade or even move more than necessary.
Even if now I had the stamina and energies to back up whatever movement I wanted to make, old habits were hard to kill, so in my daily life I still used my power saving mode.
That was how I developed a style of combat so unorthodox it was barely combat anymore.
Rovan spinned on his heels dragging his axe in an uppercut to avoid my handspring a second time, I went with the flow.
My jian raised in a slight diagonal axis was seemingly poised to intercept the hit, only for the moment of contact to never arrive.
I changed my center of gravity slightly and let myself fall back avoiding the strike completely.
But right before I could hit the ground, my sword fell into its rightful place, in front of my foot.
With just a slight touch of the heel, the sword was thrown towards my hand and I then used it as a walking cane to bring myself up again. Rovan was just about to reform and pursue his hit, but I had already jumped forward, with my jian pointing directly for a stab at his armpit. My effort was clearly useless. With the long shaft of his war axe he completely blocked my hit and I was forced back.
The fuck? How strong is his body?
Just that block was enough to make my bones vibrate.
"The fuck is wrong with your form man?"
"Rovan, I really don't want to hear it."
"But all your movements…"
I didn't want to listen to another sermon of standard forms, rules of the body and whatnot. I didn't care and either way, my body wasn't able to perform that way. So I launched myself again.
This time my jian was held like a dagger and during my sprint I slightly pushed my weight on my left side altering my trajectory just enough for the heir of war to notice and prepare a counter to whatever I was about to do.
When I was a few feet away from him, I raised my sword feinting a strike followed by what could only be a somersault. Rovan had already positioned to deflect my sword and counter in one hit, but just as my sword arm was about to come down, the sword fell behind me.
Everyone thought it was a mistake, maybe my hands were sweaty and the hilt simply slipped, but when the sword fell in the grip of my left hand, already in position to welcome the blade and my body's inertia changed completely, their eyes almost popped out.
My sword found flesh in Rovan's arm, but instead of cutting it off it barely left a deep cut.
"What the fuck are you made of man?! Is your flesh and bone actually iron?"
Rovan was speechless. Everyone was speechless. Blood kept flowing out by the cut in his arm, but he didn't care, nobody cared. They were all replaying my movement in their mind not clearly understanding what had happened.
In the midst of my confusion at the lack of answer and everyone silence, a laughter echoed so clear and full of mirth it brought a smile to my face as well.
"Miss Anne, it's not polite to laugh at someone else's blood."
"I'm sorry young master Crow, it's just… I remember when you did that move against the head instructor, but your sword actually fell and you got beaten for an hour straight until you were able to make the transition perfectly."
"Ah, so it's my blood you're laughing at."
"Of course!"
"Fair enough, did you film it?"
"Of course!"
While I was happily chatting with Anne, Rovan was actually able to get back to his senses and immediately pushed forward with newfound enthusiasm.
It was the first time he experienced something so wrong and so beautiful he was actually starting to get aroused.
"MORE, SHOW ME MORE OF YOUR STRANGE MOVES CROW!!!"
"Fuck, I should have faked taking a hit and surrendered."
That's how the real clash began.
One, a master of form and military power trained from the day he was born, the other, a guy who couldn't hold a sword properly even if you tied it in his hand; and strangely, it was hypnotic.
For every standard and perfect attack, an unthinkable counter came through and for every attack out of form, a steady wall was ready to defend.
Even the advantage of unpredictable attacks and defensive manoeuvres was nothing before rigorous training and sheer physical prowess.
Slowly but surely Rovan was going to take the upper hand and finish me off. The maniac was laughing like crazy before the smell of blood.
"Young master Crow, five minutes are up."
"Oh fucking finally."
With Anne's beautiful reminder, I stopped being hesitant completely and threw my sword away.
That uselessly elegant jian was no longer needed.
I watched as a shiver run down Rovan's spine mid sprint, barely raised a finger and uttered.
[Foxfire]
The mad sprint halted, his face distorted green illusory flames erupted from within his body in the shape of a three tailed fox, tails that looked like they were constricting his limbs and a primordial scream of pain exploded from the young heir's throat as he fell to the ground trembling.
"STOP IT!!!" -Auriel
I snapped my fingers and everything ended like the illusion it was, no semblance of death nor magic. Rovan simply stood up like nothing happened and looked around at the worried faces starring at him.
"What?"
The heirs looked at me as you look at a monster and then again at Rovan with questioning looks.
"Sigh, he is fine, I'm the one who needs healing, I'm also basically out of mana."
The message was clear: don't ask for an encore.
Anne was just about to come to my side and heal me when she was stopped by Auriel.
"I'm the healer of the match. Don't overstep your place, servant."
Anne looked displeased and for how good of a kisser Auriel was, nobody stepped on my people.
"Lord Auriel, why don't you check on Lord Rovan and let miss Anne do her job? She is MY personal healer after all."
He looked dejected, but I didn't give a fuck.
"Crow, there was no need really!"
I looked at Anne who even forgot to address me formally in front of all these heirs and just took her hands putting them above my injuries.
"Miss Anne, if there's a thing Father Oddsmond taught me right in the orphanage, it's that respect, like wit, must first be possessed for it to be demanded."
She laughed at my antics, clearly understanding the meaning behind it, and just proceeded to do her job. I then looked around at the people encircling Rovan and asking questions about what happened.
"Damn, I wish I could hear what they are talking about."
"They are asking what he felt when the spell hit him young master, but he doesn't seem to remember at all, not even the fact that he was hit by a spell."
"Of course he doesn't, I obviously removed all traces of my magic, otherwise he'd need to go to an asylum for mental health! But how do you hear them Vinny?"
He didn't answer and just smiled.
This bastard.
"Well! Now that I won, Yoooooom?"
"Not so fast son."
Behind me, like a real ghost appearing out of nowhere, Duke Morvane was standing with a smug look on his face.
"Why, he needs to be punished… dad."
When the others heard my unrestrained and disappointed speech, they all fell to heir knees and all at once screamed.
"I greet his grace, Duke Dionen Morvane!"
They were so in synch I couldn't help but laugh while my shadow-butler tried to make me kneel as well, failing miserably when I clearly threatened to cast a spell on him as well.
The Duke however, dismissed everything and everyone, he just looked at me and said words I didn't believe could be possible to be pronounced by him.
"He does need punishment, but so do you for all the pranks you've caused. You know that because of you there's a talk about changing the law regarding sex between minors?"
"How is that my problem? I'm a virgin, it's all of them that don't seem able to keep their legs closed."
Everyone froze. The heirs, the servants, Anne and even the duke himself.
"Young master… did you just call everyone a slut?"