Dante opened his eyes. His face felt hot against the cold, damp ground. He remembered his training with Simon. His kingdom needed him to be strong, but Dante had to prove he was stronger than that. Slowly, he pulled himself up, gripping his sword tightly and wiping the dust from his face. Alexios had his back turned to Dante as the soldiers cheered. The cheers fell silent the moment they saw Dante standing. The young prince didn't care about the silence. All he wanted was to make Alexios bleed.
Dante watched the Captain's back and shouted, "I was told the battle ends at first blood. So, unless you've surrendered, the battle continues."
Alexios turned to see the determined face of the young prince, and he smiled, not out of pity or amusement but out of the purest sense of respect.
"Young Prince, you have to be careful with what you wish for."
The pain in his cheek made him realize the overwhelming strength Alexios had. If he couldn't beat him in direct combat, he needed to reevaluate the entire situation. Alexios assumed his stance. The morning wind brushed his face as he prepared to adjust for Dante's speed. The soldiers cheered loudly as the two warriors readied themselves for the next round.
Dante rushed toward the center, but he didn't attack Alexios. Alexios couldn't understand what Dante was doing. Then he launched a powerful strike at Dante's left side, which was easily dodged by the young prince. They both stared at each other, knowing they needed to be cautious as they entered this new duel. The seasoned general was more than surprised by how much recognition he was giving the young prince. Any reckless move could leave him vulnerable to being caught off guard. Dante was only making small moves, not committing to any attack as he tried to find the cracks in Alexios's defense. All his strikes were light, hitting his legs and then instantly changing to Alexios's face. The unpredictability of Dante's moves made it difficult for Alexios to keep up. Sweat began to be noticeable on both swordsmen.
The soldiers murmured. They saw Dante's attacks and knew Alexios was still holding back. Alexios once again began to attack Dante. The speed was not equal to the young prince. Dante dodged each attack, but with each strike, Alexios got closer to Dante. Not by increasing his speed but by predicting where Dante would be.
The plan was running out of time. The longer the duel dragged out, the longer the outcome would favor Alexios.
Dante took one swing and swiftly retreated to the edge of the arena. Alexios looked straight at him and said, "Kid, running away will only prolong the inevitable."
A smile appeared on both swordsmen as they stared at each other for one final exchange. Dante assumed a low guard, preparing to move in close enough to Alexios to close the gap. He rushed to the center and, with a single blow, Alexios kept Dante at the edge of his sword.
The distance Dante couldn't cross left Alexios with a clear advantage. Just when all seemed lost, the experienced captain made a blunder—a mistake Dante had been waiting for since the start of the match. Alexios aimed a downward slash at Dante, which Dante easily evaded, exposing his entire face. Dante then lunged with a single thrust of his sword, targeting the captain's nose.
As the captain saw the point of the blade coming toward him, he knew the young prince would stop just in time. With his own sword's momentum heading toward the ground, Alexios made the reckless choice to move his face toward the blade and only turned his head at the last second.
Dante could not believe the move the Captain had made. With a simple step, his entire back was exposed to the captain, and he could feel the cold blade on his neck. Dante drops his sword to a cheering crowd. As he turned around to congratulate the Captain, he saw the shocked look on Alexios.
Alexios touched his cheek with two fingers and held them up in front of his face. They were bright red, and he was lightly bleeding from his cheek. A thunderous laugh escaped from Alexios as he gestured to the crowd and declared Dante the winner of the match.
When Alexios dodged the attack, he was slightly cut by the edge of the blade, causing him to bleed. The crowd cheered for the young prince. Dante couldn't believe he won the duel. Although he didn't win the fight, he did overcome the challenge.
"Congratulations, young prince, I sincerely apologize for questioning your proficiency with the blade."
Dante was still shaken from the encounter with the more experienced fighter. While catching his breath, he said, "No harm was done, so I do not need your apology."
The general smiled and extended his hand, a gesture Dante mirrored. Before Dante could let go of Alexios' hand, he felt the Captain's grip tighten. "If we were in battle, that wouldn't have worked. Your reckless moves should be made with consideration of how much you can risk." With a smile on his face, Alexios released the hand. Dante looked at his hand and saw it was a little purple. The words of the captain remained in his head.
"Dante, that was amazing." Approached Pytheas
"How much of the battle did you see?" Asked Dante.
"I saw the part where you got punched in the face and the end of the duel. So not much, but in good news, I found someone I can face with my Gisla."
A timid young man walked towards the prince. A man no older than 25 looked at both Dante and Pytheas. Claiming that it was an honor to be in the presence of the legendary Pytheas of Illia. Pytheas looked at the prince and explained that the young man was an Elemental who could conjure fire.
Dante had heard of the tales of the young man. Tales that spoke of a talented warrior whose Gisla was the strongest in the land. However, upon seeing the man behind the talent, he was left doubting the stories.
"Prince Dante, you keep looking at him as if you can take him out on your own."
"N.. no, I just thought he'd…"
"Believe me when I tell you that this man is more than capable of showing you how Gisla works. Why don't you present yourself?" Pytheas looked at the shaking man, placing his hand on his shoulder to help him relax.
The red-eyed boy looked at Pytheas. His confidence increased from Pytheas's reassuring smile. "My name is Zenon."
Dante looked at Zenon, standing tall in front of Pytheas, and understood that this man had something hidden under his sleeves.
Both Gisla users went to the arena. The sand felt cold as Pytheas grabbed a handful and rubbed it between his hands. Zenon walked slowly, focused only on the battle. He knew that Pytheas trusted his abilities, and he would not disappoint.
Dante walked by the rows of seats filled with soldiers who were all ready to see a true Gisla clash, and at the closest seats to the arena was Alexios. Sitting alone, although his men highly respected him, he was still feared by all of them. The young prince walked slowly to him and asked him if he could take a seat next to him. The experienced soldier, moved by Dante's gesture, told him he could sit down.
"You know I was holding back against you."
Dante looked at Alexios and grinned. "I guess I'm lucky you did, because I was holding back as well."
Alexios laughed hard enough for the entire arena to hear. "Let's just watch the match. I have heard that both of these are incredible at their craft. Let us witness a true battle of scholars."
Pytheas looked around at the roaring crowd, a crowd that knew his name and adventures. A living legend who knew he had a name to uphold. Pytheas looked at the crowd and began to wave his hands for them to get louder. The louder they got, the more focused Zenon became. The noise had become void, and only the eyes of a hunter remained.
The young Gisla scholar Megas Zenon Ek Logothete would face off against the legendary scholar, adventurer, and warrior Pytheas of Illias. At that moment, only two people existed in the entire world. Both looked at eachother and prepared for what was to come.