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Chapter 7 - The Awaited Duel

Reinhardt raised his sword and stood up straight with bended knees. The soldiers nearby slowly stopped their drills. They placed down their swords and sat on the ground as if watching an interesting play.

It wasn't every day that their young master faced the captain himself, so they had to watch.

"Begin when you're ready," Reinhardt uttered in a calm voice. His brown eyes were focused on Lionel.

Lionel took a deep breath and slowly lowered his stance. The sword felt heavier in his hands than he remembered. However, despite that, his body moved almost on its own as if the muscle memory from his past life was guiding him.

Lionel dashed forward first.

Clang!

The sound of swords striking each other echoed across the hall. Reinhardt parried the blow with ease, barely moving his wrist. The impact sent a shock up Lionel's arm, but he gritted his teeth and didn't step back.

"Not bad at all," Reinhardt muttered before countering. "It seems like you're indeed learning," His blade came swinging from the side, fast and precise.

Lionel blocked the attack, but the force pushed him backward a few steps. His arms trembled from the weight of the captain's strength.

Now that he was back as a child, the gap between their strength was undeniably huge.

Lionel quickly adjusted his footing, exhaling slowly.

Stay calm, he told himself. Watch his movements and not his sword.

Reinhardt came again, and each strike he made was stronger than the last. Lionel dodged one, parried another, and even managed to deflect the third. His breathing grew heavier, but his eyes burned with focus.

The soldiers who were watching on the side murmured among themselves.

"The young master's gotten better…"

"His form looks sharper than before."

"Yeah," one of the older soldiers whispered with widened eyes. "Back then, he couldn't even last three swings before getting disarmed."

"I remember that! Captain Reinhardt would scold him for dropping the sword every time. He used to cry after training." Another chuckled quietly, shaking his head.

A few of them laughed softly, not in a mocking manner but in adoration for their young master.

"But look at him now," someone added. "He's actually keeping up!"

At that moment, Lionel stepped sideways to avoid a downward strike, the blade slicing through the air just inches from his shoulder. He twisted his wrist and pushed Reinhardt's sword away, creating a small opening.

"Hah!" one of the younger soldiers exclaimed.

"Did you see that? He dodged it again!"

"No way… The captain's getting serious now."

Reinhardt's expression didn't change at all, but there was a faint interest in his eyes. He pressed forward, increasing the speed of his attacks. The sound of their clashing swords grew sharper and faster.

It was all you can hear except for the whispers of the soldiers on the side.

Lionel's breathing slowly became heavy. After a few minutes, he started to scream in pain. Still, his eyes stayed locked on the captain. He ward off another strike and ducked, barely avoiding the next. His boots scraped against the floor as he slid back, steadying himself again.

"Woah! He's lasting this long?" one soldier whispered in disbelief.

"That's a first," another replied. "The captain must be holding back a little."

"That's not possible," the first said, shaking his head, "young master Lionel's movements are different. It's like he's suddenly trained for years."

Lionel gritted his teeth as Reinhardt's sword came down again, not giving him enough time to catch his breath. He raised his blade just in time, blocking the attack, but the force sent him stumbling backward. The move almost made his knees give in.

Reinhardt took a step forward, lowering his sword slightly.

"You're holding up better than usual," he muttered, his brows furrowing, "But your stance still wavers under pressure. Fix that, or you'll fall the moment I press harder."

"Then I'll just have to make sure you don't get the chance to press harder, Sir," Lionel smirked weakly, panting.

A few soldiers let out quiet laughs.

"Listen to him talk back! The kid's got spirit now."

"Is that so?" Reinhardt raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

He moved again, faster this time, and Lionel barely managed to block. Sparks flew where their blades met. Every strike was heavier, sharper. Every move was testing Lionel's limit.

Lionel's legs were shaking, but he refused to step back. He could feel every muscle in his body screaming, but deep inside, he was proud.

Back then, he wouldn't even last a minute with Sir Reinhardt. But now? He didn't even know how long they had been sparring!

Reinhardt's next strike came like lightning, and Lionel barely saw it coming.

Clang!

Their blades collided, but this time, Lionel's grip on his sword slipped. His sword flew from his hands, flying unto the ground a few feet away from them.

The tip of Reinhardt's sword also stopped just a few inches from Lionel's neck.

The young boy froze as sweat continuously dripped down his face. His knees collapsed on the ground after using all his strength.

"I win." Then Reinhardt slowly pulled back his sword and straightened his stance. His usual stern expression was still there, but you would notice a small smile brewing at the corner of his lips.

"You've greatly improved," he said quietly. "A few more months of this, and you might even land a proper hit on me."

A few of the soldiers who were watching on the side started clapping and cheering out loud, grinning at their young master's progress.

But it didn't last long.

Reinhardt's sharp glare turned their way.

"What are you all doing?"

The soldiers immediately froze, their smiles disappearing. They immediately stood up to pick up their own swords to resume their training.

Meanwhile, Lionel lay flatly on the ground. He was staring at the sky above him. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his hands trembling from exhaustion.

I think I overworked myself.

He took a deep breath as he thought of it. Still, it was a great achievement to last that long!

Lionel smiled faintly to himself, still panting.

Then suddenly…

[Ding!]

A familiar translucent screen appeared before his eyes.

[Congratulations, Host. You have lasted through the duel.]

[Swordsmanship grade increased.]

[Swordsmanship: C– → C]

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