Vale's eyes widened in sudden panic.
Callum's claymore was already in motion, cutting through the air in a wide, merciless arc aimed directly at Vale's arms. There was no hesitation in the strike, no warning. Instinct took over.
Vale snapped his grip tighter around the spear and twisted his body sideways, bracing the shaft against the slash. The impact rang out like thunder as steel met steel. The force behind the blow was immense—far more than Vale had anticipated, and his footing immediately faltered. The stone beneath his boots cracked as he slid backward, muscles screaming as he struggled to absorb the weight of the strike.
Above them, the ravens and Ember watched intently, their bodies tense, eyes tracking every movement.
For a brief moment, the fight became a contest of raw strength.
Callum leaned into the clash, a faint grin curling at the edge of his lips as he adjusted the angle of his claymore and pressed downward with crushing intent. Vale clenched his teeth, refusing to yield, but the pressure was relentless. Slowly, inexorably, his arms trembled. His legs buckled.
One knee struck the stone floor with a sharp crack.
Vale looked up at Callum, nerves flickering across his expression, but not surrender. Instead, he twisted his wrists and shifted the spear's angle just as Callum continued to push straight down.
The blade slid off the shaft smoothly, as though guided away.
The claymore slammed into the floor beside Vale, sending sparks skittering across the stone.
In the same motion, Vale yanked the spear back and lunged forward, driving it toward Callum's abdomen with all the force he could muster.
Callum reacted instantly.
He twisted his body aside, the spearhead slicing past harmlessly, and released one hand from his claymore. His fingers closed around the spear's shaft, halting its momentum entirely. Before Vale could react, Callum let go of the blade altogether and drove a brutal punch into Vale's chest.
The impact knocked the air from his lungs.
Vale staggered backward, coughing as pain flared through his ribs.
"I thought you said we should fight fair," Vale growled, forcing himself upright.
Callum's claymore flew back into his hand as if summoned by thought alone. He rolled his shoulders once and regarded Vale with mild amusement.
"Should I show you what unfair looks like?" he asked calmly.
He brushed his golden hair out of his eyes, utterly relaxed.
Vale exhaled sharply, irritation flashing across his face.
"No thanks," he muttered.
'So much for winning,' he admitted to himself.
Callum surged forward again.
Vale glanced over his shoulder. The wall was close, too close. If he was driven back now, the next strike would pin him there.
He snapped his attention back just in time to duck beneath a stabbing thrust of the claymore. The blade hissed over his head as he sprinted toward the far side of the dojo.
Callum did not let him go easily.
The claymore swept outward in a brutal horizontal slash. Vale leapt at the last possible moment, narrowly clearing the arc. The blade clipped the air where his head had been an instant earlier, slicing clean through several strands of his long hair.
'Shit.'
Vale hit the ground hard, rolled once, and came up facing the Shining Knight.
Callum was already advancing.
Vale's expression hardened. Running wouldn't work. He planted his feet and raised his spear.
This time, he chose to stand.
The claymore descended. Vale intercepted it midair, the spear vibrating violently under the impact. Callum pulled back and struck again, Vale blocked it. Another strike. Another interception.
Steel clashed again and again in rapid succession, each blow echoing through the dojo.
Then Vale saw it.
An opening.
Callum's side was exposed.
Vale narrowed his eyes and drove the spear forward.
The tip struck Callum's armor, and bounced off harmlessly, not leaving so much as a scratch.
Before Vale could adjust, Callum's claymore was already raised high, poised to come down with devastating force.
Vale tore his spear free and twisted aside just as the blade crashed down. He used the momentum of the failed strike, spinning in a tight circle and redirecting his movement into another thrust.
This time, Callum deflected the spear with his blade.
The two pressed on, skirmishing in close quarters, neither gaining a clear advantage.
Vale held superior reach and technique, his movements precise, efficient. But Callum was faster. Stronger. Better in nearly every other regard.
Vale grit his teeth, a hiss of frustration slipping past his lips.
Then Callum released his blade again.
Vale leaned back just in time, avoiding the sudden feint, and countered.
His boot slammed into Callum's abdomen with brutal force.
Callum was sent flying backward nearly a meter, skidding across the stone before landing cleanly on his feet.
In the same motion, Vale spun, adjusted his grip, and hurled the spear with everything he had.
Callum sidestepped effortlessly.
The spear embedded itself deep into the stone wall behind him.
Vale cursed under his breath and rushed forward, seizing Callum's claymore mid-motion and wrenching it from his grasp.
Callum's eyes widened, only slightly, but the expression that followed was unmistakable.
Excitement.
Vale hurled the sword away,
and felt a crushing kick slam into his abdomen.
The force lifted him off the ground. His vision blurred, pain exploding through his core as he hung weightless for a fraction of a second.
But Vale clenched his fist.
And struck back.
His knuckles drove forward in a heavy, desperate jab, aimed straight at Callum's face.
As Vale's jab tore through the air, something felt… wrong.
Callum didn't dodge.
He didn't flinch.
The punch landed cleanly against his face, no resistance, no deflection. Vale's fist connected solidly, yet the impact seemed meaningless. Behind his knuckles, Vale could clearly see it: the Shining Knight's bright, unfazed smile.
Fear surged through him.
Vale leapt backward in panic, instincts screaming that he had made a mistake. His retreat was too late.
Callum's hand snapped shut around Vale's fist midair, iron-strong. With a sharp pull, he dragged Vale back toward him while his other arm rose, coiled and ready.
Vale tried to raise a defense, but Callum's counter came far too fast.
The punch slammed into Vale's abdomen with devastating force.
Callum released his grip at the same instant, and Vale was sent flying backward several meters before crashing hard against the stone floor. The impact rattled through his entire body, knocking the breath from his lungs.
For a moment, Callum stood still. Then he chuckled.
"I guess I win, huh?" he said, approaching with an easy, almost playful smile.
Vale didn't respond.
The pain came in waves, deep, crushing, and nauseating. It wasn't the loss that bothered him. It was that final punch.
Groaning softly, Vale rolled from his back onto his stomach, then pushed himself onto his hands and knees as his stomach churned violently. The contents of his earlier meal surged upward.
He vomited onto the cold stone floor.
The sound echoed harshly in the otherwise silent dojo as his body heaved again and again, until the stone beneath him was smeared with the remnants of his lunch.
Callum stopped short, his expression shifting into something awkward, almost guilty.
"Uh… sorry," he said.
Vale wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, breathing heavily, and waved him off.
"Give me a hand," he muttered, lifting one arm weakly.
Callum grasped it and pulled him to his feet. Vale steadied himself, though the irritation in his gaze was unmistakable, clearly aimed at the man who had nearly folded him in half moments ago.
Taking a slow, grounding breath, Vale wiped the remaining traces of vomit from his face. His armor reacted immediately, dissolving the mess upon contact as though it had never been there.
He looked at Callum for a moment.
"I'm going," Vale said finally, his voice tired rather than angry.
Callum nodded, retrieving the spear from where it had been thrown and carefully placing it back on its rack.
Vale whistled softly, calling Ember and the ravens back to him. They gathered at once. He reached the door and pushed it open, pausing only when Callum spoke again.
"Hey, Vale," Callum said. "Sorry about all that."
Vale waved a hand dismissively.
"Tomorrow," Callum added, "the others will be moving here."
Vale froze.
He turned back once, meeting Callum's gaze.
"Thanks," he said.
Then he left the dojo.
He wasn't angry, at least, not truly. But the final blow had left him shaken, and his body still felt wrong, heavy and sore. For now, he preferred to be alone.
It took several minutes for Vale to reach his room. Once inside, he shut the door and sank into his chair, exhaustion settling deep into his bones. He tapped his computer, waking the screen as the familiar glow of Chrome filled the room.
"Time to learn," Vale muttered.
He opened his book, eyes scanning the pages as he prepared to deepen his understanding of this strange, dangerous world he now found himself in.