The imperial gardens were illuminated by lanterns hanging from tree branches, casting soft pools of light across the clearing. Nobles and dignitaries formed a wide circle around the open space, their whispers creating a constant murmur like wind through leaves.
Grim stood at one edge of the clearing, watching as the elderly man approached with a sheathed sword. It was a simple weapon with a plain hilt and guard, lacking the ornamentation typical of noble blades. Yet something about it commanded attention. Perhaps the way the old man handled it with casual reverence.
"This blade has drawn blood in more battles than most soldiers have seen," the man said quietly, presenting it to Grim. "It will serve you well if you trust it."
The sword was lighter than Grim expected as he took it, perfectly balanced despite being made for an adult's hand. The hilt seemed to warm to his touch, almost as if responding to his mana.
Across the clearing, Verin Terras was being fussed over by his father, who adjusted his formal jacket and handed him a gleaming cavalry saber. The teenager swung it experimentally, the blade catching the lantern light. His movements were practiced, showing years of proper training.
"Remember your forms," Rowan advised Grim, his face tight with concern. "Watch his footwork and don't overcommit to your strikes."
Grim nodded, but his mind was already drifting back to his training with D, to a specific lesson that suddenly seemed crucial.
"You're still thinking too narrowly," D had said one day during their underground training. Grim had been practicing Aurora Flash for hours without improvement, growing increasingly frustrated.
"I'm doing exactly what you showed me," Grim had protested.
"You're using your sword as a tool," D replied, "not as an extension of yourself." He had set his own blade aside and held up his empty hand. To Grim's surprise, a faint glow of aurora energy appeared around D's fingertips.
"Sword Daos can be channeled through your body, not just your blade," D explained. "Your mana points exist throughout your body, not just in your sword arm."
He demonstrated by drawing a pattern in the air with his finger, leaving a trail of multicolored light. "This is how masters truly fight. The sword is merely one conduit, not the only one."
"But it's called Sword Dao," Grim had objected. "Doesn't that mean you need a sword?"
D had laughed, a rare sound. "Names are just names, boy. What matters is understanding the flow of mana through your body. Each technique has specific mana points that activate it. For Aurora Flash, the primary points are here, here, and here." He touched Grim's wrist, elbow, and shoulder in succession.
"When you master a technique truly, you can channel it through any part of your body where those mana points exist. Your feet, your hands, even your eyes can become weapons."
Grim had struggled to understand. "So I could do Aurora Flash without a sword?"
"Eventually," D had confirmed. "Though it's easier to learn with the sword as a focus. The blade helps direct the mana along familiar pathways. But in true combat, limiting yourself to just your sword is like fighting with one arm tied behind your back."
The memory faded as Grim found himself standing in the center of the clearing. Verin Terras stood opposite him, a confident smirk on his face. The sword in Grim's hand suddenly felt alien despite its perfect balance.
"The terms of this duel," Lady Renara announced, having somehow become the unofficial adjudicator, "are as follows: victory is achieved by disarming your opponent or forcing them to yield."
She looked between the two boys. "As the challenged party, Lord Ambrose may set one additional condition."
All eyes turned to Grim. He hadn't expected this opportunity, but seized it immediately.
"No assistance or interference from anyone," Grim said firmly, his eyes briefly moving to Lord Terras. "The duel ends only by disarmament, surrender, or your declaration, Lady Renara."
She nodded approvingly. "Agreed. Does the challenger accept these terms?"
Verin Terras shrugged. "It hardly matters. This won't take long."
"Are you sure you want to go through with this, little lordling?" Verin called to Grim, loud enough for everyone to hear. "There's no shame in realizing you're outmatched. Well, not much shame."
Scattered laughter rippled through some of the watching nobles. Grim remained silent, his face expressionless as he studied his opponent.
[He favors his right foot,] the voice observed. [And he grips his sword too tightly. Nerves beneath the bravado.]
Grim said nothing, which seemed to irritate Verin more than any retort could have.
"Nothing to say?" Verin taunted. "Perhaps you've finally realized your place. The Ambrose name isn't what it used to be, is it?"
Still Grim didn't respond, his focus narrowing to Verin's stance, his grip, the tension in his shoulders. The crowd and their whispers faded away until all that existed was the space between him and his opponent.
"Begin!" Lady Renara declared, stepping back from the center.
Verin didn't hesitate, lunging forward with the confidence of someone accustomed to overwhelming less experienced opponents through aggression. His saber flashed in a textbook overhead strike designed to force Grim to block or retreat.
Instead, he sidestepped with unexpected speed, letting the blade cut through empty air where he had been standing. As Verin's momentum carried him forward, Grim pivoted, bringing his borrowed sword around in a controlled arc that stopped just short of Verin's exposed side.
The teenager's eyes widened in surprise as he realized how close he'd come to immediate defeat. He recovered quickly, spinning to face Grim with newfound wariness.
"Lucky dodge," Verin muttered, but the confidence in his voice had dimmed.
The circling began again, more cautiously this time. Verin tested Grim's defenses with a series of quick thrusts and cuts, each carefully controlled now that he understood his opponent wasn't the easy target he'd expected.
Grim parried and evaded, his movements were precise. The sword in his hand began to feel more natural with each exchange, as if it were teaching him how to use it properly.
[He's trying to gauge your skill level,] the voice advised. [Show him enough to make him cautious, but not everything. Not yet.]
The nobles watching seemed surprised by Grim's competence. What had begun as entertainment was transforming into something more intriguing: an actual contest.
Verin's frustration became evident as his attacks grew more aggressive. He pressed forward with a flurry of strikes, trying to use his superior reach and strength to overwhelm Grim.
For a moment, it seemed to work. Grim gave ground, parrying desperately as the older boy's saber came at him from multiple angles. A thin line of sweat appeared on Grim's forehead as he was driven back toward the edge of the clearing.
"Not so confident now, are you?" Verin gloated, sensing victory.