Capítulo 6: The duel
Talos and Alfred found themselves once again in the bustling courtyard of the headsman academy. The scene was vibrant with activity as young headsman cadets engaged in various forms of training.
The air was filled with the rhythmic sounds of wooden weapons clashing, the shouts of their trainer, and the determined grunts of the students.
"Galf, I have a new one for you," Talos called out as he and Alfred approached.
The cacophony of training came to a halt as Galf made his way toward them. His presence commanded attention, and the cadets quickly formed a semi-circle around him, eager to witness the exchange.
"Boy, if you wish for me to train you, you must first prove your mettle," Galf declared with authority.
Talos leaned in close to Galf's ear, a subtle exchange of information between them. "He consumed angel blood," Talos whispered.
Galf's eyes lit up with intrigue. "If that's the case, then this changes things. Bran, step forward."
From within the gathering of cadets, a towering teenager emerged. Bran's dark, flowing hair framed his chiseled features, and his muscular build was a testament to his training and dedication.
Galf turned to Bran, "Show the newcomer the way we do things here. Engage in a duel until one of you submits!"
The other cadets erupted into cheers, their enthusiasm a palpable force. Bran approached Alfred, a look of determination etched upon his face.
As Alfred extended his hand in a friendly gesture, "Hi. I'm Alf-"
Bran responded by slapping it away, his hostility evident. "I'll crush you!" Bran declared, his words brimming with animosity.
Alfred, seemingly unperturbed, reached into his pocket and retrieved a somewhat rotten carrot. With a bemused expression, he offered the carrot to Bran. "You seem angry. You probably just hungry."
Bran's aggression was momentarily replaced by confusion, his steps faltering as he backed away from Alfred's unexpected gesture.
The onlookers exchanged bewildered glances as the scene unfolded before them. However, the brief interlude was abruptly interrupted by the whistling sound of an incoming projectile.
The carrot Alfred had offered was skewered by an arrow that impaled it into the ground. All eyes turned to the source of the arrow, revealing a young woman with short red hair. Layla, a cadet known for her formidable skills with a bow, stood poised at a distance.
Galf let out a resigned sigh and rubbed his temples in exasperation. "Not again."
"I'll take care of this duel," Layla declared confidently, her voice unwavering.
The murmurs among the cadets escalated as they witnessed Layla's determination.
Galf's patience wore thin as he retorted, "Layla, how many times must I tell you? Women cannot become headsman. The angel blood proves fatal to them."
Undeterred, Layla pressed on, her resolve unyielding. "Then I'll prove my worth without it. It's a win-win situation for you. If I lose, I'll relinquish my dream of becoming a headsman. If I win, you'll see that the new kid isn't fit for this path."
Alfred knelt beside the arrow-adorned carrot and mourned its fate.
Meanwhile, Galf's patience seemed to dwindle further as he addressed Layla. "Fine, if this will finally grant me some peace from your constant pestering."
Amidst the intrigued crowd of cadets, Layla advanced toward Bran with purpose, swiftly disarming him and claiming the wooden sword from his grip.
The jeering and laughter of the kids behind Bran turned into nervous silence as he turned to face them.
Alfred's anger ignited for the first time. He clenched his fist, his knuckles white with the force of his emotions. "Which one of you wastes food?" he demanded, his frustration palpable.
He noticed Layla standing before him, poised for the duel. Alfred, still engrossed in his carrot's demise, appeared unfazed. "What? Oh, I can't fight a girl."
"Listen up everyone," Galf's voice cut through the tension, commanding the attention of the cadets. "This is a valuable lesson. Girls can be vampires too. What will you do when faced with that reality?"
The scenario that Galf presented was met with uneasy murmurs among the cadets. Galf then flung a wooden sword toward Alfred, who instinctively caught it.
"Even kids can be vampires," Galf continued sternly. "You need to be prepared to eliminate threats without hesitation."
A timid cadet, who had been sporting a middle of the head bald, monk-like shaved head, piped up hesitantly. "Even animals can be vampires?"
"No Tod, animals cannot be vampires," Galf replied with an air of weary patience.
"But I read in a book about creatures that resemble animals and—" Tod's words were cut off by Galf's redirected attention. "Bran, please," he instructed.
Bran, not one to shy away from asserting his dominance, complied by delivering a swift slap to a cadet named Tod.
"Thank you, Bran," Galf acknowledged, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Let the duel begin!"
With the stage set, Layla wasted no time in launching her assault.
Alfred, however, seemed more focused on examining the wooden sword in his hand than on Layla's imminent attack. "What is this, oak?" he inquired with a quizzical expression.
Observing Alfred's apparent lack of concern, Layla's irritation grew. She let out a fierce war cry and charged at Alfred, aiming for a head-on attack.
In a display of surprising agility, Alfred sidestepped Layla's assault with almost casual ease. "Easy there, miss. You might accidentally hurt someone."
'Maybe a carrot would make her feel better' Alfred rummaegius in his pocket but its empty. 'Oh no.'
As Layla's frustration mounted, she lunged at Alfred once more, her battle cry ringing in the air.
Yet again, Alfred deftly sidestepped her attack. "Be careful, miss. You're waving that thing around like you're trying to catch a butterfly."
Despite Layla's swift movements and clever feints, Alfred managed to avoid her strikes with a series of casual movements that suggested he wasn't taking the fight seriously.
This continued until Layla, exasperated by his seemingly dismissive attitude, launched herself at him with a particularly forceful attack.
In response, Alfred swung the wooden sword in his hand with an improvised technique that resembled more of an axe swing than a practiced sword strike.
Layla, caught off guard by his unorthodox maneuver, found herself unable to anticipate his movements. In a risky move, she stepped into his swing, attempting to redirect his momentum and disarm him.
Alfred's makeshift swing resulted in his wooden sword being knocked from his grasp, skittering across the training area.
Her enemy was without a weapon, Layla could taste victory, "You see it master Galf. The mind is a sharper weapon then the body."
Layla seized the opportunity and pressed her advantage, closing in for what she assumed would be the final blow. However, as she delivered her strike, Alfred's hand shot out and intercepted the wooden sword midswing.
Layla's efforts to wrestle the sword from his grip proved futile. Then she smelled smoke.
Alfred's fingertips glowed a bright white, wisps of smoke escaping from the point of contact with the wooden sword.
Before anyone could react, the wooden sword burst into flames, engulfing it in a fiery spectacle. Layla staggered back in surprise.
The cadets watched in awe as the flames danced, casting an otherworldly glow upon Alfred's features.
Alfred, seemingly fascinated by the fiery transformation, held the flaming sword aloft. "Oopsie," he remarked, his voice tinged with childlike wonder.
Just as suddenly as they had appeared, Alfred glowing fingers subsided, leaving Alfred holding a burning wooden sword.
He threw it away, then examined his hand, as though trying to comprehend what happened. "Where did the lights go?" he mumbled to himself, flailing his fingers in confusion.
The courtyard had fallen into an astonished silence, and Galf's voice cut through the hush. "So, it's really true," he whispered, a mixture of awe and contemplation in his tone.
He absentmindedly stroked his goatee, lost in thought as he witnessed the extraordinary display.
Layla's perturbed voice pierced the stillness, her pride wounded by the unexpected turn of events. "Hey, that was cheating!" she protested, her frustration evident.
Galf, his patience dwindling, replied with a tone of finality, "Layla, in the battlefield, there's no such thing as 'cheating'.'"
Layla crossed her arms, her pout evident as she cast a final, disdainful glance at Alfred before storming away.
The crowd of boys erupted into laughter as Bran couldn't resist a taunt, calling after her, "Back to the kitchen, girlie!"
Amid the laughter, Galf stepped closer to Alfred, patting his shoulder with a wry smile. "I've never seen someone so challenged with a sword, but luck seems to be on your side. Fortunately for you, I happen to be the best teacher around here."
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NIHILA
NIHILA I hop you enjoyed this chapter!
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