Sudden Death
@rxstorationlord
He’d told the so-called boy “King” that things wouldn’t be as easy now that he had his crutch of a blessed lance and his scrumptious sister by his side. And he was right.
The boy was holding as well as Valter supposed he would -- he may not respect Duessel anymore, but there was no denying he was a skilled instructor. But Valter’s many years of expertise weren’t failing him, either. He may not have shown the amount of raw talent the boy was so proud of flaunting, but he worked hard, damn it. He’d EARNED the right to be standing where he was now! What had this BOY done to earn the leagues of followers he’d won?! He was a brash, headstrong, insensitive cur, much like Valter himself, but fate simply seemed to hand him his victories on a silver platter. What nonsense!
Through the calamity of blows and parries and finishing moves as they waved their dummy lanced about, the final tally was called. A DRAW, they said. The round was now to proceed to sudden death. Valter laughed, clearly pleased that the fighting would be going on a little longer as he circled his opponent at a far enough distance that he could read his movements before he had time to strike.
“You’ve done well to make it even this far, Princeling,” he taunted, hoping to bait Ephraim into throwing caution to the wind. “Have you been taking private lessons from your sister, then? I would have loved to be there to witness that... How did it feel to be inside of her, hmm? Perhaps I should visit her after the match as well to take a few lessons of my own...”
