"Nah."
Chase said, as he pushed the girl into the ground; however, just as she had begun to fall: She twisted her body, swinging her longsword directly at him.
'Shi-'
Without being able to deflect the blade, he leaned back, and prayed to all of the gods, hoping that the sword would miss him.
His prayers came unanswered, as the tip of the blade had cut directly into the bridge of his nose.
Technically, the swords were supposed to be completely dulled out, but sometimes the strength and speed of the students could surpass even the toughest of skin with the dullest of blades.
Chase stepped back, and wiped the blood from underneath his eyes.
Poppy had stood up as well; however, she had looked better. She was covered in scrapes, and the backside of her armor had a massive dent in it's bronze surface.
Yet, there was still a very large problem.
His blade lie on the ground behind The Ivory Princess.
With a curse, he threw himself forward without a weapon.
Wind blew into his face, as he turned his body diagonally, in an attempt to avoid her strike, as she readied her longsword at her side.
She swung her blade.
With a grunt, He rolled over, landing just a couple of meters from his bastard sword.
He was on one knee, and an entire chunk of his shoulder plate was missing; however, replacing it was a gentle flow of blood, that was leaking ever so slowly onto the floor.
Knowing he had little time, he lifted both of his arms up to meet her blade, as she swung it down vertically.
A strange sound echoed through the classroom, as a terrified look in the girl's crimson eyes was the only that Chase could see through the blurriness of his own vision.
Her silver longsword was pressed harshly against the middle of his forearm.
It was quite painful, but it was actually the best possible outcome that could have taken place.
Chase released his support arm, and grabbed the blade with his hand, pulling it from Poppy's grasp, which surprised the girl even more, already in a shocked state.
He was now standing again. This time with a blade sticking partially out of his arm, but now the battlefield had evened out.
The angle the silver blade was hanging from was quite odd. She had landed a perfect strike that would have severed most people's arms entirely.
Yet the blade had only cut about half an inch deep. Allowing it to stick within his arm, but not so deep that it would cause any major damage.
With a grin, he yanked the blade out of his arm, and threw it to the other side of the platform.
It hurt like hell, but he refused to show any weakness. Not when he was actually putting up a fight against the third ranked first year.
Their eyes met once more, and this time there was a slight nod of understanding from the both of them.
Both Chase and Poppy ran in opposite direction, grabbing their blades at the same time.
While he did not necessarily like the girl for obvious reasons, he refused to fight her when he had the clear advantage.
He wanted to win fair and square, no tricks such as disarming the opponent and beating the ever loving hell out of them.
Once Chase stood with blade in hand, on the other end of the platform: Poppy had also regained her weapon, and stood facing him.
He squeezed the handle of his sword tightly, as the thought of him actually having a chance began to invade his mind.
He set his feet, and held the blade in place, as he felt his arms shaking rapidly from the weight of the sword.
Both soreness, and exhaustion were beginning to become a problem, meaning this fight had to end soon if he wanted a chance at victory.
Suddenly Barren spoke loudly from the corner of the room.
"Fighters, re-enter combat soon or I will be forced to fail the both of you!"
Suddenly laughs filled the bleachers, as Chase had realized that both him and Poppy had been standing, facing each other for a good minute or two.
He felt his face grow hot, and She seemed to have been caught off guard as well.
Chase used this to his advantage, shooting toward her like a missile, as the ground behind him had cracked, even if it was just a little bit. It was still just enough for him to notice it.
'I'm getting stronger...'
He thought to himself, as he stopped himself, dragging the blade along the ground at his side, only a couple of meters away from The Ivory Princess.
With a huff of the rest of his held up breath, he swung the blade with a full range of motion, forming an arc as he brought it down at a nearly unlockable angle.
She leaned to the side, and just barely avoided having her shoulder bashed in, or worst.
With a loud clang, his blade met the ground violently. A painful vibration shot through his hands, and all the way up to the base of his shoulders.
She threw the blade of her sword at his undefended side, striking him with the flat of her blade directly into his left arm.
If you had asked him, he would have said that he took the blade like a champ; however, in reality he had made a yelping noise, and let go with that hand from the sword.
Poppy should have been able to end the fight there but he could have sword that he seen her hesitate.
He followed up with something that should never even be attempted in combat. He turned his back to her swiftly, doing a complete one eighty. Bringing his blade with him, in the form of a horizontal slash to her right side.
She met his blade with hers, and then it had begun.
With only one hand on his blade, he had now engaged in rapid combat with the girl.
Their swords flew at each other in what felt like a pace that no first year students should have ever been able to obtain.
He had to predict the trajectory of each of her attacks before they could even be displayed, and having only one hand on his sword made it that much harder.
Michael Of House Everfrost.
"In the name of the gods..."
He heard Gabriel say, as he held his arms above his head completely astonished.
Michael was gripping his own arm tight enough to cut off the circulation.
He was leaning forward watching the unbelievable match before him. No one dared to even speak at the moment, as lightning fast blades were meeting at the center of the large platform before them.
'How fast is able to increase his output...?'
Michael thought, as he recalled the time they had practiced in the academy courtyard on the first day of school.
He had to remind him several times that this was the same kid who had slain The Naga, and survived an entire year within one of the most dangerous places on the continent.
A pang of jealousy struck him in the chest, as he realized that if Chase were to beat The Ivory Princess in direct combat, then he would most likely climb in the rankings at an astonishing rate, and maybe even take his spot as the fourth ranked first year.
But he should his head, refusing to even care about that sort of thing.
Suddenly, Michael had noticed something that no one else had.
Chase was struggling, although it did not appear as such; however, Michael knew the nameless boy well, and he also knew that he was putting up a facade.
The boy had survived several fatal injuries since the raid on his village so long ago. So it was no surprise that he was just doing his best to tank Poppy's attacks in hopes of wearing her down.
Michael's gaze turned to the floor, and sure enough: a pool of fresh blood had filled the engravings in the floor.
'This isn't a battle of endurance, it's a damn suicide match...'
Chase was clearly keeping himself in the match though, as he looked as if he could take on another hour of this, but the problem was that The Ivory Princess had that same expression on her face.
In fact, it was strange to realize that both seemed to be enjoying their duel.
Their blades had almost become invisible to the naked eye, as Michael had realized that the two had probably passed the speed at which Panda and Neo had gone on the first day at The Academy.
It was truly a battle of honor, as Michael knew damn well that Chase could have won this fight the moment he had ripped the blade from Poppy's hands.
The Everfrost boy remembered seeing a strange book that had been guarded by Equan on the day they had a practice duel in the courtyard.
'Just what exactly have you given him Barren...?'
The book's description matched up with some strange folk lore, that actually aligned perfectly with the family tree of their combat director.
'The secrets of a paragon...'
The words echoed through his mind, like a shard of glass ripping into his own skin. The book that should have been destroyed the moment The Grand Paladin had ordered the execution on the first Insignia.
Suddenly Chase had delivered a powerful kick to the center of Poppy's stomach, causing her to skid across the arena floor.
The two had disengaged from battle, and now were standing on opposite sides, eyeing each other down like blood lusted beasts.
Barren took a step toward the platform.
It was obvious that Chase was going to lose now, his body was completely covered in bruises, and terrible cuts.
The Phoenix Academy aetherball team had an important game against Skytide academy later that day, and now that Chase was one of the attackers, they needed him in a suitable condition for the match.
The professor spoke.
"I call this match-"
Chase interrupted him, with a tone full of arrogance that did not make sense based on the words that he was about to speak.
A grin covered his face.
"I surrender."
He said, nearly wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.
At this point, Michael was looking on, his jaw would have been on the floor if it weren't for basic human anatomy.
"He's just surrendering!"
Michael yelled.
"Wait... That isn't fair!"
Poppy argued from her side of the platform, it was clear that she was out of breath as well, and she did not look that good.
'Not to say she isn't the most beautiful girl attending Phoenix Academy.'
She had several cuts on her clear face, revealing that Chase had indeed landed several hits on her within their intense duel.
Then the girl looked at Chase as if in disbelief.
"You're just quitting?"
Chase shrugged, and sat down on the platform's cold floor.
"I would have lost, and not gracefully either."
He said, setting his blade down with a sigh.
Barren nodded, and whispered something to Neo who had walked over at the end of the match.
"I call this match! Our victor is Poppy of House Aries!"