The morning mist clung to the ground like smoke.
Nazeku stood opposite Varric again bruised, grinning faintly, his gauntlet already scarred from the earlier rounds.
"You sure you want to continue?" Varric asked, folding his arms.
"If I stop, it means I learned nothing," Nazeku replied, his tone casual, almost mocking.
"Then let's see if your pride can keep up with your mouth."
Varric moved first, a blur.
Nazeku barely caught the motion, raising his gauntlet to block. The impact sent shockwaves through his arm, rattling his bones, but he stood his ground.
He countered.
A quick jab, then a low kick both dodged easily.
Dust spun around them as they traded blows.
Varric's every strike felt like a storm.
Nazeku studied them, each movement, each pause, each flicker of muscle.
His right shoulder tightens before a feint. His weight shifts a half-step before a real strike.
He learned through pain, through instinct.
And when Varric's fist came again, Nazeku spread his aura thin across his skin, a light, invisible layer.
The blow hit.
But this time, he didn't fly backward. The aura absorbed part of it, the ground cracking beneath his feet instead.
Varric paused, surprised.
"You reinforced your body mid-fight?"
"A little trick," Nazeku said, panting. "You like it?"
A smirk.
"You're interesting, kid."
Varric's tone shifted, his stance firming.
"But you've had enough of my warm-up. Let's see what happens when I actually hit you."
Nazeku's expression flickered.
"Wait"
The air exploded.
A golden aura burst from Varric like a roaring inferno, shaking the earth itself. The air rippled with energy so dense that Nazeku could barely breathe.
"This… this is… power on another level…"
He tried to brace, aura surging desperately across his body, thin, flickering, fragile.
Varric vanished.
In that instant, all sound disappeared replaced by a crushing silence.
Nazeku's pupils widened as a faint blur appeared in front of him.
I can't read it !!
Then BOOM!, it hit.
A single kick, swift as lightning, heavy as a falling star.
It struck his gauntlet and the world went white.
Metal screamed, shattering to fragments. The force tore through his defenses, crushed his ribs, and launched him like a ragdoll through the air.
He saw the ground and sky flip. He heard bones crack.
Then the mountain met him.
The entire slope trembled, stone splintering under the impact.
Varric exhaled slowly, lowering his leg.
"One-third of my power…" he muttered. "And he still managed to move before it landed."
He approached the crater, seeing Nazeku unconscious, blood at the corner of his mouth, the remnants of his gauntlet scattered like burnt leaves.
For a moment, Varric just stood there, looking down at him.
Then a faint, amused grin.
"You really don't know when to give up."
Nazeku awoke to the sound of crackling fire.
He lay on a cot in the training hall, ribs wrapped tightly, pain biting with every breath.
He stared at his hand, bandaged, trembling slightly.
The gauntlet… gone.
He let out a small, breathless laugh.
"Guess it couldn't handle it either…"
Then, from deep within him, a low rumble echoed, the dragon's voice, calm but heavy:
You felt the weight of strength. Remember it.
A man's weapon breaks… but his will does not.
Nazeku's gaze hardened.
"A man's greatest weapon…" he whispered, closing his eyes.
"…is not his sword."
The corner of his lips twitched into a faint smile.
"It's his body."
And with that, he drifted back into unconsciousness, battered, broken, but more determined than ever.