As the fourth match began, the atmosphere was different unlike the explosive chaos of the other bouts; Kean and Squire 314 began circling one another with slow measure steps, their eyes locked as they assessed every twitch and subtle nuance in the other's stance.
After several silent painstaking circuits around each other, Kean's eyes cool and calculating flared with a resolute intensity, in one explosive he shattered the measured cadence of their dance. Aiming his pistol he unleashed several shots at his opponent in rapid succession cutting through the tense silence of the arena. Amid the barrage, he bobbed and weaved with basic steps. His feet danced at an unpredictable tempo, sometimes accelerating with a burst of speed or at other moments decelerating into measured steps. As they closed the distance both fires lunged at each other, weapons aimed exclusively at vital areas. Each thrust of a blade was met with desperate dodge, every parry a razor-thin escape from death. They moved as if predators stalking prey before escalating into cunning savagery with Kean being the predator that started to get more desperate taking a gamble he allowed Squire 314 blade to pierce his ribs, the sharp agony ripping into him like fire as the blade edge heated up, using the chance he grabbed onto his opponent's arms. But with that sacrifice, Kean unleashed a feral flurry of stabs into Squire 314's torso, each stabbing a brutal rhythm of flesh and bone leaving drawing crimson streaks into the air. Using his pistol squire 314 fired several laser shots into Kean. With a quick movement, they both disengaged before retreating a few steps. They stood there in bloodied silence. The battlefield held its breath in silence as Kean and Squire 314 stood locked in bloodied silence, their eyes burning with an even more cunning ferocity than before, neither willing to yield an inch. With a slow tempo they they resumed their circular dance. Then with a sudden burst of energy, they lunged at each other once more. This exchange was more deadly than before, blades tearing into flesh as they exchanged blows. Their blood lined the air, painting the arena with crimson streaks as they aimed to maim each other.
Kean began to falter, his movement growing sluggish as the blood loss took its toll. His opponent more deadly than him landed enough strikes to push further to the brink, as the blows drove him closer to collapse before he buckled Kean using his last reservoir of strength sliced his blade cold and unforgiving across Squires 314's left eye, cutting deep and unforgiving before falling unto his knees.
"You insolent peasant- you're dead!" Squire 314 roared, his voice cracking with unrestrained fury. His dagger glinting with fatal velocity killing blow imminent. But before the blade could find its mark, a laser's crisp sound echoed across the field. The dagger clattered to the ground, blood spraying from Squire 314's wrist as a rifle shot tore through it. His head snapped up, eyes blazing with disbelief and rage meeting Adam's unflinching stare. Adam standing on the edge of the field, lowering his rifle with a calm expression save for the faintest roll of his eyes.
"You incompetents- how dare you?" Squire 314 said through clenched teeth. The rest of his squad stirred into action, their bodies tensing to charge, when a commanding presence halted them in their tracks. Colonel Z'yna's calm yet imperious voice cut in.
"Winner Squire 314," she declared her tone as impassioned. Without missing a second she strode towards Adam. Arriving by him her steady hand clenched around his wrist and with a simple deliberate motion, she broke it exposing his bone. Her eyes swept across the field, taking in the silence, her voice cutting the tension like a wire
"That is a warning. Next Squire 735 versus Squire 388." As his ID was announced Adam measured resolute steps, striding onto the battlefield. In his grasp shone his chosen arsenal, a spear with an 11" heat-able blade, a pair of power gauntlets forged from advanced alloys and humming with latent energy, and a laser pistol strapped to his waist for insurance. His opponent emerged a chiseled face set in quiet resolve and piercing hazel eyes that burned with unspoken challenges strode onto the battlefield. Clutched firmly in his grasp was a medium Celtic shield, a rifle pistol rested comfortably at his side and a Viking axe hung across his shoulder.
Adam and his opponent circled each other, Adam aimed his spear at his opponent its blade glowing an infernal crimson Squire 388 held onto his shield his Axe gripped firmly watching Adams's movements, he lunged first axe swinging in a brutal arc, Adam propelled by deft reflexes sidestepped the swing with stable grace. In one seamless motion, he countered with a thrust of his spear. The weapon's burning tip lashed out, scorching the rim of the opponent's Celtic shield and grazing the size of his torso. With quick reactions, the opponent raised his rifle pistol- and fired off a barrage meant to destabilize Adam's advance. But Adam's agility turned defense into offense; sparks flew as energy pulses from his gauntlets intercepted on-target projectiles sending them veering off course.
Realizing, that a simple assault wouldn't break through, the opponent charged once more axe raised high with a roar. Adam reading his opponent's charge spun low and rolled, drawing his spear along the ground. In that fleeting moment, he locked onto a gap in the enemy's guard. With unflinching precision, Adam launched himself upwards driving the crimson tip of his spear into the opponent's chest. The strike glowed hot tearing through fabric and flesh leaving a trail of seared ruin.
Staggering from the blow, the opponent rallied raising his shield to block any further onslaught. But Adam was like a dog with a bone, staring at his opponent with primal fury as the images of what happened to Wolfgang flashed through his mind, unleashing a focused burst of kinetic force from his power gauntlet concussive blast and shattering the opponent's brief resistance sending him reeling backward as his shield spiraled out of control. Using his spear Adam created multiple holes in his opponent using his spear aiming to leave him in a worse condition than Wolfgang. In the final moments of the duel his opponent as his adversary staggered, barely clinging unto consciousness his axe traced a path across Adam's chest. With a decisive strike spear still aglow with the heat he drove his spear once more into his opponent sealing his fate and sending him crumbling to the ground. The match ended with Adam standing with his breaths, chest marred by flesh and blood dripping steadily onto his training uniform. Took heavy steps back to his squad with exhaustion and steely resolve. As he neared the group he paused beside Gilbert, lifting his gaze to the sky for a brief moment before matching eyes with Gilbert, Adam spoke slowly each word measured and deliberate
"I do not bow out of subservience; I do it as the courtesy I was raised upon." The words hanging in the air.
"Winner Squire 149-overall, Squad 5 wins with a score of 5 merits," declared Colonel Z'yna her tone as icy and resolute as ever. Her verdict echoed across the blood-stained field, mingled with the ragged breaths of the squires. "You all should to the med wing, your squads' medics shall have some hands-on practice today." With those words, she turned and marched away, leaving behind the battered, exhausted squires she left behind the battered Squires. The carnage of the day's brutal encounters was etched onto every face especially those from squads 5 and 9, whose ferocity had been unmatched.
In a quiet corner of the now silent training field, Sohan leaned close to Aisling. "As I said, you expect too much from them," he remarked, his voice tinged with schadenfreude as he scanned the aftermath. Aisling's green eyes flickered with amusement "Is that you saw?" She replied turning shortly and bouncing away with small hops her squad trailing behind her. Not far off Askel watched the departing figures with bored calm, "Interesting," he murmured, his voice flat and uninterested.
The med wing buzzed with the sound of hurried footsteps as medics did their grim work. Amidst the groans of pain and the sharp, sterile scent of medicine, Squad 9 was in their little corner of the bay with Chen Mei flitting about. She moved with a worried energy, her gaze lingering on Kean and Wolfgang who resembled soldiers dragged through hell and back. Despite her usual timid demeanor, she moved with an air of confidence as she stitched the scar across William's chest, her hands precise and steady.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as she worked.
"We fought Alexander's Squad 5," Gilbert replied with a flat-tone bandage wrapping his injuries.
"Oh, did you guys win?" Chen Mei asked, her voice containing a flicker of hope. The question hung in the air. Wolfgang and Kean turned their heads away in shame, their expressions displaying their answer. Adam, seated nearby with his arm in a sling, hung his head, his silence speaking volumes.
"I'll take that as no, then," Chen ME said dryly, her eyes piecing together the story from their reactions.
"Wolfy held us back," Kean muttered, wincing in pain as he tried to sit up, only to be firmly pushed back down by Chen Mei's hand.
"Says the guy who got taken out by a midget," Wolfgang shot back, staring daggers at Kean as the two started trading jabs, their bantering trying to bandage their bruised pride. Meanwhile, Adam rose from his seat, his movements slow he walked over to Gilbert, with a steady gaze etched into his features. "I'm sorry I failed," Adam said, his voice low but resolute. "My mistake cost us. It won't happen again."Gilbert met his eyes, his expression softening slightly. "You didn't fail," he said firmly, punching Adam lightly on the shoulder. A gesture meant to reassure causes Adam to wince in pain. "You lost a match. There's a difference." The words brought silence to the group as they all absorbed them thinking back to their earlier matches.
The months slipped away like sand through eager fingers as they immersed themselves in their courses, the weight of anticipation building day by day. Finally, the moment they both dreaded and eagerly awaited arrived: the first practical class. It loomed ahead, a daunting challenge that filled their hearts with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Yet before they could face the trials of the day, they gathered to synchronize with their circuit gems, an essential rite of passage that would officially mark their transformation into fully-fledged marine knights.