Far faster than I wanted or thought necessary, I found myself standing on one side of the clearing, everything having been removed from the center. Word quickly spread, and far more people started to gather to watch the duel about to take place.

Some of the younger men had made no effort to conceal that they were taking bets. Not whether I would win, as no one was willing to take that bet, but how long it would take for Victorak Sathrin to win. I wanted to be annoyed and call them all fools for underestimating me, but the harshest emotion I could muster toward them was anxiety.

Don't get me wrong, I was good with a blade… for a legionary. A commoner legionary, as while I didn't want to get overly specific, I still think it is necessary for the full context. While nobles had to learn things like how to rule, social etiquette, or any number of idiotic things, in my view, they also had plenty of free time to practice a fighting style. And the higher their rank, the more it shifted from a suggestion to a rule.

Off the top of my head, I knew the Scipio province was known for its Razor Blossom Style. I had seen it once in battle, and it consisted of controlling five-pointed stars whose spikes were as big as my palm. The knight had to spin them as fast as possible while propelling them at his target, specifically any gaps in the armor, where a spray of blood would blossom into the air once the saw blade impacted. And that was one of dozens of fighting styles scattered across the Republic.

Olimpia herself was known for the Long Blade Style. The swamps to the south, especially around Calipso, were known for the Slither Blades. The Isles were renowned for their Onyx Daggers, and the Great Planes were known for their Broken Spear. In short, there were dozens of fighting styles, all of which were designed for fighting as individuals or in small groups. In contrast, the basic crude swings, blocks, and stabs you learn in the legion were meant to be used in concert with a shield and five other people within arm's reach that had your back.

I knew all of this basic information. I was even actively thinking about it as I was forced into a duel. However, Redgenald had taken it upon himself to ensure I completely and utterly comprehended how much I was out of my depth, as he told it to me again. Although he was finally getting to helpful information, "Victorak Sathrin is a student of the Long Blade style. Specifically, the longsword variant."

"There are different variants?" I asked, intentionally letting myself be distracted by the new information as I watched the noble throw back his head of black hair and release a full-body laugh at something one of his bootlickers said.

"Yes. The original form was built around the use of greatswords. Weapons that are so massive that they often weigh more than their wielders at times, and you have to be at least a knight to effectively wield them, though even they struggle. High nobles are the ones the style is meant for, as they are the only ones capable of plunging into battle and hacking in half tens of beastkins with a single swing while controlling five other high-level castings."

Looking around as my heart rate spiked, I searched for a massive sword that was as long as my body, but I didn't see anything. "As I said, it is a variant. Such a style is only practical on a battlefield against overwhelming numbers. As times changed, so did the fighting style. Now, most use longswords as their main weapon, with anywhere from one to five long daggers to keep their opponent on the back foot while they position them for the killing blow. I can't say what his abilities are, but you will be out-ranged from the start due to your sword's length. Add on the auxiliary weapons for harassment at medium range, and you will have trouble even closing the distance."

"So he is going to stand at range and attack me until I'm overwhelmed?" I asked, unable to hide my despair.

"Unlikely." Senator Ponpti said, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and lips showing his displeasure, even as he attempted to suppress the emotions. "A noble defeating a commoner, be it a scout or even a knight, is expected. To overwhelm them with raw power would show nothing to the onlookers. Worse, it would most likely be seen as a disgrace to the noble because it would be admitting that he didn't have the skills to do it any other way. If this were a personal matter, it could be the case that young Sathrin might be willing to take the blow to his reputation, but no one actually believes this is about his clothes. As such, without a doubt, he will toy with you, mock you, and belittle you with his ranged attacks, but he will only end the fight with his own hands. Anything else would be more of a loss than a win for those behind him."

"So all I have to do is draw this out, and he will look bad."

The senator looked at me, his thoughts concealed behind a blank mask. "If you can… However, I feel compelled to tell you that this will not end here, regardless of the outcome. The doors have been opened, and now others will interact and attempt to use you for their own ends. And that little punk will never accept anything but an utter, unequivocal victory. If events play out any other way, he will do his best to be a nuisance in your life, in the best-case scenario."

"I understand," I hesitantly said, uncertain about the reasons behind his telling me this. And even more unsure of whether I wanted to fight back, instead of simply accepting the beating.

"Good. Now, go out there and do your best, as I've heard you are quite skilled. This is already a disgrace and a blow to our cause, but it will become more of one if you can not at least put up a fight. Though, don't worry too much, no one expects anything of you." At that, the senator walked into the middle of the clearing and started saying something, but the world around me faded away as a buzz sounded in my ears.

For some reason, those words hit me like a wagon. Senator Ponpti didn't expect anything from me. No one did, except the Kin. Well, maybe I shouldn't lump all Kin into the same group, that of believing I had potential. At the very least, however, Kaneita and Franklin did.

Redgenald's words replayed in my mind. That I should stop hiding and show my powers in front of everyone. What better time was there than now? Dozens, hundreds of nobles were present… and you know what, if they wanted to attempt a partial soul harvest for the chance of gaining my regeneration, I would tell them how to do it.

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Why was I hiding anyway? To avoid being used? That was already happening. If I demonstrate that I have some actual potential, maybe I could avoid being treated like a servant. I knew that. Had known it for months.

But it was easier to hide. As I returned to the Triad, even after deciding to go to the Great Forest and leave the legion, it was still easier to go with the flow. Quite literally on the ship. A long-held role that I had existed in for my entire life, and slipped into like an old pair of boots.

What made it all the more irritating was that, while the role might have been old to me, it wasn't like it was ever a comfortable one. Never one I actually wanted to exist in. It was, however, familiar. Something I knew what to expect from and what would be expected from me. Which was nothing.

All I had to do to change that was make a choice. A simple thing, really. The decision to act instead of being impassive, except I had no idea where that road would lead. I didn't know what obstacles would, as they always did, appear. It was the mysteries that caused me to hesitate. The knowledge that I might not, probably wouldn't, be enough to overcome them… But wasn't it better to die walking my own path and being constantly led around by the nose?

A hand clapped me on the shoulder, and I looked to the side, seeing Franklin standing next to me. "Forget what he said. Go out there and kick his ass." Lifting his other hand, I expected to find some kind of food, but I saw a harness with a half dozen spikes on it. "Took it from the girl over there after I heard of his fighting style. You actually gonna use it?"

I glanced down at the weapons, then my eyes flicked over to Kathren. She looked mildly concerned, but at my look, a weak smile appeared on her face before she shouted, "You got this, Green! I bet two silver on you lasting five minutes!" A shout that was taken up in one form or another by all of my other students, much to the amusement of the gathered nobles.

"Yes, I am," I grunted, grabbing the offered harness and pulling it over my shoulder. "And thank you, Franklin."

"My pleasure, cousin," The badger said with a flash of his teeth. "My pleasure."

Returning the grin, I stepped forward, pulling on my mental energy to form tendrils. I didn't pull a lot of energy, just enough so that my regeneration kept my reserve topped off. While it wasn't a lot, even by my standards, it was a steady supply and was quickly amassing. By the time I had walked out to stand next to the senator who had finished addressing the crowd, I had already formed a tendril larger than what I usually had. And every moment that passed, the more I had to work with.

I watched the young noble saunter up to us, taking his time to wave at the crowd and spin around every other step. It was a play to him. A moment to be the center of attention, with a predetermined outcome. Because what could I possibly do to him?

Well, I suppressed a smile as I formed my third tendril and hooked it through the eyelet on a spike. Won't that be a surprise to everyone?

Finally, after more than two minutes for the noble to cross ten yards, we stood across from each other. "Gentlemen," Senator Ponpti said, causing the nobleman to snort in disgust as he threw a look at me. He didn't need to say anything, as a round of snickers flowed through the crowd, which the senator ignored. "I will ask you one more time, can we settle his matter without any bloodshed?"

"This is a matter of honor!" Victorak declared. "If you are unwilling to toss this elf onto his ass as you remove him from our presence as is proper, I must show everyone here, and the Great Elementals, why elves are lesser! Why they do not belong in our presence!" Turning to the crowd and throwing his arms wide, the young noble pumped them, causing many within those gathered to shout their approval. It wasn't everyone, however. There were even those who wore frowns upon their face, looking upon the scene with disgust.

"Scout Green, are you willing to leave the Kin delegation and my estate?" Senator Ponpti asked, turning to me.

Without waiting a second, I answered, "No."

"So be it. This duel will be between Scout Green of the 14th Legion and Victorak Sathrin of House Sathrin, and is a matter of their honor. This fight will be to first blood, and should either of you attempt to take it further, I will intervene." The senator wasn't even looking at me, his full attention boring into Victorak.

"Do you both agree to the terms of this duel?"

"If that is what is required." Victorak reluctantly sighed, as if such a concession on his part was a major ask.

"Yes," I said after a moment, as I wanted to gather a bit more energy.

"Good. Now, both of you take three steps back." Demanded the senator as he raised his right arm. "Raise your weapons, and when I drop my hand, the duel will begin."

The senator's voice grew distant to me, and I loosened my body to the point that my arm barely had the strength to hold up my gladius. My eyes were focused across the six paces separating me from my opponent. In contrast, the noble carelessly spun his longsword at his side, flipping and twirling three daggers around his body with tendrils of mental energy.

"Do you even know how to use those?" The young man sneered, eyeing the harness of spikes hanging over my shoulder and falling down my back. "Even if you do, how many can you actually control? No doubt only one. Such pitiful creatures. Almost as bad as beastkins."

I didn't respond, and the senator looked between us and started counting down, "Three. Two. one!"

As soon as the senator's hands started to drop, I pulled myself forward with a tendril as I leaped forward into a lunge. With six other tendrils, I pulled the spikes from the harness and sent them out in sharp arcs, three coming from both the left and right. Not feeling it was enough, I pulled my right arm backward before driving my gladius toward the man's unarmed chest.

It took me less than a second to cover the distance with my body, and my spikes were even faster. I saw the arrogant noble's eyes widen as momentary fear appeared on Victorak's face. At that instant, I knew I had him. He wasn't prepared, his weapons were out of position, and he wasn't reacting fast enough to stop my attacks.

And then a wall of mental energy blasted into me and my castings. I felt the initial wall of power hit my tendrils and dissipate against them as I reinforced my castings with extra willpower, expecting something like this, but the torrent of power never stopped. With my little regeneration trick, I was controlling about five and a half orbs of mental energy. More than I had ever had access to while by myself, given my reserve could only hold four.

The blast of power the noble released must have held dozens of orbs of mental energy, and that was just my estimation from what I could feel in the first moment of our energies interacting. But that was only the first moment. The flow of power never stopped, and my efforts were little more than dust in the wind before the raw power.

The next thing I knew, I was tumbling backward, after it felt like I was kicked in the chest by a horse. But even now, I was not willing to concede so easily. After flopping to a stop, I immediately rolled over and pushed myself up, gladius still clenched in my hand.

Getting my feet under me, I raised my sword, expecting to continue a one-sided beatdown, except there was no one to fight.

The only sound was the crackling and popping of a distant fire, as the entire crowd fell silent, staring at me in shock. Eyes still locked on Victorak, I saw the moment he finally processed what had happened. His face contorting into a snarl, his eyes flared with rage as his face flushed with embarrassment. In the next instant, he blurred forward, releasing a scream containing all his emotions.

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