The Final Hurdle, Part One

Walking through this hallway for the fourth time in two days, Gawain had no fear.

"I trust you to make the right decision."

Instead of a uniform, he was wearing a blue, sleeveless vest for this fight. A bandage had been wrapped around both of his arms, up to his elbows. This was the cost of defeating the first seed. His arms had swollen up after receiving the blows.

"You can't let a punk defeat you."

Words of encouragement from his brother. He was rooting for him, no matter what.

"You have given a good account of yourself, disciple."

His master acknowledged his achievement. She wasn't asking for more, but he had to repay her with a win.

"I won't get in your way. But remember, you don't have to overdo it."

A senior, and a friend, worried about him. And finally,

"You can do this, son."

A gentle hug from his mother. She was the one that had bandaged his wounds, and she was the reason for him making it this far.

The entrance came into view, and the arena was in sight. The final duel in the competition, known as Poseidon's trials, was waiting for him.

"This is it."

He looked at the shield in his hand.

"The final round. Gawain Rolfe, against Hugh Fitton."

The officiator looked toward him. He raised his head and walked into the field.

The spectators had their eyes trained on him. Under them, he marched confidently to his spot. The council member, the overseer, and all the house leaders, including Joan and the red knights like Gwen, Lars, and Rimu. There were also others that he didn't know, all of them dressed in their armors.

After the previous round, the weight of expectations had increased a hundredfold. He had defeated the first seed. He was no longer a dark horse in their eyes.

Soon after, the competitor came into sight. A frail boy carrying a longsword on his shoulder smirked at the exchange of looks. He was confident in his chances, more openly and disrespectfully. After walking over 30 steps, he came face to face with him.

"Are you sure you want to fight like that?"

A question asked not out of concern but with rampant condescension.

Gawain chose to ignore him. The officiator arrived in front of them.

"Do I need to go over the rules again?"

"No-"

"If my opponent breaks his arm because he is unable to properly defend my attack, will it be considered a violation of the rules?"

Hugh was aiming to blow his fuse.

"That won't be the case."

"Then it is fine. After all, if someone is choosing to endanger themselves on purpose, then why should I be held responsible?"

"Take your positions."

Laurent didn't appreciate Hugh's behavior, but he had to be unbiased.

Both of them went on to their respective positions. On the right, Gawain brought his shield ahead of his chest. On the left, Hugh was just as casual as before, not giving any weight to this situation.

"Ready?"

Gawain softly nodded.

"Sure."

Their eyes met. Hugh tapped his index finger on the sword's hilt in anticipation, while Gawain put more strength in his fists to ensure that the grip was firm.

"Begin."

'He is injured. Given that his arms should be significantly weaker than before, he won't attack me first.'

He was going to be on the defensive, which is his strength.

"Do you want to go first? I don't want the audience to be disappointed with this fight."

Hugh was confident that he wouldn't say yes.

Gawain smiled.

"Alright."

Pushing himself off the ground, he bolted toward his enemy.

'This works too.'

Hugh was composed. He readied his hand to intercept the first attack.

'Wait a minute...'

Hesitation. He couldn't see Gawain initiate an attack. There was the intent, but his sword was still at his side.

"Surprised?"

The grin widened. Hugh finally understood his intention.

The shield rushed in, but it was slow.

'His injuries are hampering his movement.'

He brought his sword ahead of him. He grabbed the hilt and the tip with both of his hands to block the charge.

'Thud!'

A violent step on the ground. He was going to use his momentum to gain the advantage.

'Son of a-'

The shield collided with the surface of the sword, and unlike Gawain, Hugh didn't know how to make use of his feet to defend.

'Bang!'

His footing was weak, and the push was strong. He couldn't prevent the fall, and instead tried to move his wrist to raise the sword and defend himself. Without any hesitation, Gawain kicked his longsword from his hand and gently placed that foot on his chest. Following that, he slightly bent forward to bring the short sword within an inch of his neck.

In a single exchange, Gawain had suppressed and crushed all of his arrogance.

"I might be injured. But I still can show you what you are."

"5 points, Gawain!"

"A loudmouth who is currently lying beneath my feet."

He moved his head and looked straight towards the stands. His eyes met with William's, who maintained his calm expression. Slowly moving his foot from the chest, he did not break eye contact with the Ares house leader. His eyes were saying,

'I am still waiting for you to bite.'

He spits out some saliva to the side and went back to his position.

"Pfft."

William looked to his side. Joan covered her mouth. Both master and disciple were hell-bent on making a clown out of him.

'I would pay millions of gold coins just to know what is going on in his mind.'

Joan thought to herself.

This humiliation was new to William. Only Astarte knows how much heartache it must be for the third-tiered red knight to be disrespected by a fresher.