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Chapter 12 - Chapter 11: Senseless

Wilson wanted to sigh at the simple-minded approach that Tyron was doing. Anyone with a working brain could understand his intent that was as bright as the sun in the sky. Still, he went with his plan of two minutes, though he purposely lost.

As the two-minute mark had come, Wilson purposely stepped out of the line as he dodged to the side. This caused Tyron to stumble a second after he moved. The princess was quick to announce the winner before Tyron could make another swing with his sword. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the princess having too much fun on her side.

"My loss," Wilson said as he provided another hand to help out the fallen man. "Your strikes are on the heavy side. My hand is a little numb whenever our swords meet."

"Of course." Tyron was flattered at the compliment of his strength. "It's a good thing to hear that my training did bear some fruits. Shall we proceed to the final round?"

"No problem," Wilson replied positively.

"Since we're on the third and final round, how about we make it a little exciting?" Raphael said at the side. "Nothing too dramatic to change the format."

"What would that be?" Wilson entertained him. From the words he read out of the man's mouth earlier, he was planning to add blindfolds. They were clearly not listening to his warning and were trying to find ways to humiliate him.

"Well you mentioned about having your eyes closed is bad right?" Raphael said. "Just for a little challenge, let's have the last one blindfolded. Rules will still be the same: first one who steps out loses. No permanent harm should be done to any participants."

"Will you take responsibility for what you are proposing, Mr. Keills?" Diane asked. As the referee of the spar, she is to be held responsible for any mishaps that may occur. "Mr. Thymes had already mentioned his warning over that detail. Remember that swords don't have any will of their own. Any injuries or fatality will be breaching the parameters of this spar."

"Your highness, it is just a little thing to make things interesting," Raphael reasoned out. "Wilson and Tyron proved themselves to be promising with their swords. For the decisive battle, it is just right to make it a little risky to make it all exciting. I'm sure Mr. Mare will agree with this arrangement."

Tyron, maybe just too high on their win, agreed to Raphael's statement like a fish on a hook.

Idiot. Wilson could only think is the best way to describe the man before him. Seeing only the carrot and not the whip behind the prize.

"...Mr. Thymes, I know you're concerned about doing harm to me," Tyron said with a considerate tone. "I think I am quite skillful enough to dodge anything truly fatal. Or you don't trust your skill to take the challenge?"

Wilson mildly cursed him for being a willing sacrifice. For so long he had held the sword both as a fully able person and a disabled person, he is deadly equally in both states. Having his sight allows him to control himself; without it, it makes him sensitive to everything that may harm him. Anything that touches his skin will trigger him to aim for vital parts of his attacker.

Sighing softly, Wilson agreed to the challenge. It will teach them a little to heed warnings given to them.

John personally prepared his blindfold. He examined it multiple times to make sure it is all good and nothing is tampered with. Assured it was just a plain cloth, he personally tied it to Wilson's face.

Without his eyesight, Wilson could hear every small noise in the crowd. Straining his ears a little, he picked up Alexus's footsteps. With the special boots he wore, the sounds of his steps are distinguishable. He turned his head to his direction accurately. From the way he stopped, he might have noticed his actions.

"Are you really agreeing with this?" Diane asked him. "You are never the type to joke around with one's life."

"I'm more than sure," Wilson said as he turned his head to the direction Diane's words are coming from. "As long as I don't deal a permanent wound on Tyron, I think I can manage."

"I'll believe you this one time," Diane said. "But I don't dare facilitate this round. It's too dangerous and may have an impact on me if something happened. I don't want to be compromised with Alphonsus's schemes if he is part of this."

"That's understandable, princess." Wilson agreed. Being a supporter of the First Prince, she might be used to undermine Prince George later on. "Alexus might be in the crowd now, you can have him substitute you. Any other might not work and Raphael will take advantage; with Alexus, he has nothing to say."

Diane was quiet for a moment. She should be looking at the crowd for Alexus. And judging from the steps he hears coming close to the princess, she is instructing Greselle to fetch Alexus.

In a little while, Diane stepped away and informed the crowd of her withdrawal as a referee, stating that since the stakes are now quite risky and she is not confident to handle the fallout should an accident happen. She then nominated Alexus who was being escorted by her knight, reasoning that Alexus would be able to perform the role better than she could.

There were whispers. Wilson heard them too clearly. Many of them are agreeing with the princess's decision. A minority was grumbling about those who started it should be the one who will end it. It was quite a commotion.

"... Mr. Mare, do you agree of Alexus standing up for this round?" Diane addressed Tyron. "Should an incident happen, he is more than experienced to deal with any unexpected injuries or incidents being one of the few with real experience in war."

Tyron didn't reply to Diane's question for a minute. He might be thinking or he was getting counsel from other nobles nearby or his servants. Wilson could hear some soft murmurs. After a while, Tyron agreed with the changes.

With that consent, their spar was finalized once again. John guided Wilson to the inside of the marks again. Having him in position, the servant made a distance as Alexus confirmed the rules of winning and the taboos during the spar.

Confirming the terms, Alexus made a few steps back as he announced the beginning of the round.

Tyron was quick to strike. The sounds he make were straightforward and telling enough. His steps are loud and easy to pinpoint.

Wilson, without much thinking, dodged his strikes with accuracy, making each strike seem to miss only with a second to deal with a wound. He made no attempts to fight back, focusing only on finding Tyron's rhythm and how to make it his advantage and make it seem that he is not going easy on him.

Tyron, despite all of Wilson's consideration, was not really using his brain. Anyone with enough observation could see that Wilson is being considerate with their whole thing. The near misses, the fact that he is not striking back at the latest swing, should be telling enough that his opponent is skilled enough to control the field.

"I thought you're skilled, why are you only dodging?" Tyron asked with mockery in his voice. "You've given such a grand gesture to warn, but you're not showing why you need to give warnings."

Dodging to the side, Wilson finally counter-attacked with the hilt of his sword. He made sure to make it hurt. With his mouth near the other's ear, he said.

"Did you know, those who talk too much often lose than those who talk less?"

It might have hit a spot on the other and he charged on him again at full force. Wilson toyed with Tyron like a puppet on strings. He didn't like being questioned, especially with his skills. He wants to be only around a 2-minute spar with dignity for both of them. But the other was too vain and short-sighted for immediate glory.

Like a cat with a mouse, he made a few strikes, all with his hilt, never the blade. And once the 2 minutes was up, he disarmed Tyron of his blade and gave him a decisive kick to his abdomen. There was a gasp in the crowd as a crash was heard.

A beat later, Alexus announced the winner.

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