Axelius stood casually, the wooden staff still resting on his shoulder, his other hand tucked neatly into his pocket. Across from him, Cyruz gripped his longsword tightly, eyes locked onto Axelius with a burning intensity.
The tension hung thick in the air, neither one of them moving an inch. It was as if the entire courtyard held its breath, waiting to see who would make the first move. Axelius, however, looked completely relaxed, almost bored, his eyes lazily scanning Cyruz up and down.
"So," Axelius began, his voice carrying easily through the silence. "You gonna just stand there, or is that sword just for decoration?"
Cyruz's eyes narrowed. "I'm waiting for you to run," he spat back. "That's what you're good at, right? Hiding and running away?"
Axelius chuckled, tapping his wooden staff against the ground. "Oh? Funny coming from someone who almost cried earlier. Tell me, Cyruz," he leaned in just a little, his grin widening, "does it still hurt? Your arm, I mean. Heard you screamed pretty loud back there."
Cyruz's grip tightened, his knuckles turning white. The tip of his sword wavered just slightly. "You little—"
"Careful now," Axelius interrupted, wagging a finger. "Wouldn't want you to get all worked up and lose again. I mean… we wouldn't want Cedric to outshine you a second time, right?" He tilted his head, pretending to think. "Oh wait, he already did. What was it again? Ah, yes—he completely wiped the floor with you."
A few gasps erupted from the sidelines, whispers spreading like wildfire.
"Is he crazy? He's provoking Cyruz…""Doesn't he know Cyruz is stronger than him?""Young Master Axelius has lost his mind…"
Cyruz's eyes blazed with fury, his posture tensing even more. "Shut your mouth, Axelius. Cedric got lucky. I wasn't at my best," he growled. "Next time will be different."
Axelius raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. "Oh, not at your best, huh?" he mocked, slowly circling his side of the courtyard. "Mana regeneration potion, fatigue recovery… Looks like you drink potions more than you actually train. Are you sure you're even strong enough to hold that sword?" He smirked, pointing casually at the blade. "Looks like it's shaking. I hope it doesn't slip."
Cyruz took a step forward, blade quivering with rage. "Keep talking, I'll cut that smirk right off your face!"
Axelius yawned exaggeratedly, stretching his arms like he was bored. "You know, Cedric didn't even break a sweat fighting you," he continued, ignoring Cyruz's threat. "If he wanted to, I bet he could've ended it even faster. It was just him being nice, you know?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Now I'm wondering if I should be nice to you too…"
Cyruz snapped. His sword swung forward with a flash of silver, the tip slicing through the air with lethal precision. But Axelius hadn't moved. He stood there, watching, still grinning. Just before the blade reached him, he stepped back lightly, just an inch, and the sword whistled past, cutting only air.
"Ah, almost!" Axelius clapped slowly, a mocking applause. "That was so close! Maybe next time, huh?"
Cyruz's face grew red with fury, his breaths coming faster. His maids, still watching from the sidelines, looked anxious, their eyes flicking nervously between the two.
"He's just… standing there.""Doesn't he even know how to fight?""No, I heard he's never trained before… This is just for show."
Axelius heard the whispers and smiled wider. He turned his head slightly, looking back at the murmuring crowd. "You'll wanna watch closely," he said, voice loud enough for them to hear. "I promise, you won't want to miss it."
Cyruz growled, gripping his sword tighter. "Keep talking, Axelius. I'll make sure you regret every word."
Axelius just raised his staff, holding it in both hands like it was some kind of walking stick. "I'm right here," he taunted, his grin sharp. "Come and try."
Meanwhile, on the sidelines, Owen—still nestled comfortably in Elias's hand—could only listen to the madness unfolding in the training grounds. Axelius's sharp tongue lashed out with insult after insult, each one cutting deeper than the last. He couldn't see, but he definitely heard the commotion: the swish of Cyruz's sword slicing through empty air, the frustrated grunts, and—most of all—Axelius's laughter.
"If I had hands right now," Owen muttered in pure exasperation, "I swear, I'd slap my own forehead. This is your plan, Axel? Provoking Cyruz? Seriously?" He groaned dramatically, wriggling a bit in Elias's grip. "That idiot… he's gonna get himself killed."
Elias, holding Owen carefully, merely glanced down with a slight smile. "It seems Young Master Axelius has his own methods," he replied softly. But even Elias couldn't fully hide the flicker of concern in his eyes.
Back in the arena, the clash continued. Cyruz's face was flushed with anger, his sword swinging wildly as he lunged at Axelius. Each strike came with a ferocity that would have toppled most opponents. But not Axelius. No, the young master simply weaved and sidestepped with an almost annoying ease.
"Come on, Cyruz! I thought you wanted to cut the smirk off my face!" Axelius taunted, dancing just out of reach as Cyruz's blade whistled past him. "You're swinging that thing around like you're blind! Maybe you should borrow Owen for a day or two—he seems to get around better than you!"
A few snickers erupted from the onlookers, causing Cyruz's jaw to clench even tighter. He swung again, a downward arc meant to cleave Axelius right where he stood. But Axelius ducked under it easily, almost lazily, before jabbing the end of his wooden staff into Cyruz's thigh.
"Ow!" Cyruz yelped, stumbling back a step. His eyes flared with fury. "You… little rat!"
"Oops!" Axelius chirped innocently, twirling his staff around his fingers. "My hand slipped." He leaned in conspiratorially, voice dropping to a whisper that everyone could hear. "Hey, is it true Cedric didn't even try that hard against you? I bet it is. I mean, he looked like he was barely sweating."
Cyruz roared, charging forward again. His sword lashed out in rapid strikes—left, right, diagonal—but Axelius bobbed and weaved like he was playing a game. Each miss seemed to fuel his grin even more.
"A little to the left!" Axelius called out, spinning away from another slash. He slapped Cyruz's sword arm with his staff, a light tap that stung just enough to be annoying. "No, no! That's too slow. Come on, at this rate, I'll die of boredom before you even scratch me!"
The crowd began to murmur again, whispers of disbelief and awe spreading like wildfire.
"He's… dodging everything.""What is he doing?""How is Cyruz not hitting him? Isn't Cyruz the strongest after Cedric?"
Axelius couldn't help but laugh at the disbelief surrounding him. He spun his staff around his wrist, ducked under another wild swing from Cyruz, and smacked the back of Cyruz's knee with the blunt end. The older boy staggered, nearly dropping to one knee.
"Ah, careful!" Axelius giggled, twirling away. "Wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself any more than you already have." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Actually, I take that back. I absolutely want that."
Cyruz's face turned crimson, veins bulging in his neck. His maids watched nervously from the sidelines, wringing their hands as their young master flailed helplessly against the nimble Axelius. Cyruz swung again—faster this time—but Axelius bent backward, the blade missing him by inches.
With a grin, Axelius popped back up and flicked Cyruz on the ear with his finger. "Missed me again!" he chirped, hopping back a few steps.
"Stop running and fight me properly!" Cyruz roared, stomping forward.
Axelius raised his brows, tilting his head mockingly. "Oh, you want me to stand still so you can actually hit me?" He laughed, twirling his staff and pointing it right at Cyruz. "Maybe you should ask Cedric for lessons. I bet he knows how to swing without missing."
Cyruz's eyes burned with fury. "I'll make you regret that!" he screamed, charging forward, sword raised high.