Tohrk scoffed. “Did you pack up your things yet? How much longer till you leave?”
“I don’t have much to pack, to be honest.” Almark shrugged. “But I’m not leaving. It took me two years to finally get here.”
“What a load of crap. You make me sick,” Tohrk snarled. “What, you think you can make yourself look like a tough guy with some ridiculous lie about how you traveled all the way here on your own?”
Almark shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why would I lie about that?”
“What an imbecile…” Tohrk clicked his tongue. “Cheeky Northern barbarian.”
“You sure like to insult the North. Am I the first Northerner you’ve met?”
“Obviously.” Tohrk snorted. “It’s not every day we get people from that hellhole out in the boonies.”
“Makes sense.” Almark nodded. “Southern magic is really impressive, but Northerners aren’t all brutes, you know.”
“You’re telling me people who spend decades fighting each other to the death aren’t brutes?” Tohrk bared his teeth. “Those bandit wannabes who throw their weight around calling themselves Northern mercenaries?”
Almark’s expression hardened at the mention of Northern mercenaries, and Tohrk smirked.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” he said, looming over Almark, who remained speechless. “How about it, brute? Just looking at you makes my blood boil.” Tohrk gestured with his jaw toward their sparring classmates and challenged Almark with a look. “I can take you on.”
“I wasn’t told I’m allowed to participate.”
“What, you need Professor Bohen’s permission?” Tohrk scoffed and jerked his chin again. “He’s not looking.”
Indeed, Bohen was focused on instructing other students, devotedly showing them how to duel properly.
Almark shrugged and reluctantly picked up the sword. It was lighter than he’d thought, but it was made of fairly sturdy material. He wouldn’t need to rein in his strength too much.
“Fine then, I’ll take you up on that offer,” Almark said. “Um, my armor…”
“Lend him yours, Garain,” Tohrk ordered one of his cronies.
Smirking, the boy called Garain took off his armor and thrust it over to Almark. Putting on the sweat-drenched tanned leather armor, Almark stood in front of Tohrk. He looked quite small when compared to Tohrk’s more robust physique.
“I’m ready.” Tohrk looked Almark up and down. “Heh. Filthy Northern barbarian. You can’t even cast an illumination spell right. Why did you even come here?”
Almark frowned.
“This institute isn’t for brutes like you. Go back to where you came from and get yourself killed in battle or something.”
“I was formally accepted to this institute,” Almark said.
“Not by me you weren’t.”
As soon as he said that, Tohrk thrust as hard as he could, aiming for Almark’s stomach. A fast swipe, compared to the other students. Almark knocked his blow down, however. This produced a sharp clanging sound that filled the arena, making everyone turn to look at them.
With his sword knocked down, Tohrk lost his balance and wobbled back a couple of steps. He hurriedly fixed his grip on his sword and corrected his stance.
“Why, you…!” A blood vessel bulged on his forehead.
“You’re a noble, right?” Almark said. “You talk pretty crass for someone of such high standing.”
Almark wondered how much he ought to taunt him. He’d been expecting a chance like this. He knew that Tohrk would try to mess with him in martial arts class, so he pretended to play along so he could put him in his place. He had made up his mind about this when he saw Wendy start crying yesterday.
Glancing behind Tohrk, he saw the other students watching nervously. Wendy looked at the two of them with a very pale face. Bohen was looking, too, but didn’t step in to stop them. Maybe the headmaster had told him something.
“Don’t get cocky just because you dodged it once!” Tohrk shouted.
Not even bothering to listen to him, Almark glanced at the students behind him. His eyes met Wendy’s.
Don’t worry, Wendy. I’ll repay you for your help.
Most students looked surprised or anxious. Leila, however, was watching calmly and disinterestedly, the polar opposite of Wendy. Almark could only be impressed by how collected she was. And then there was the class representative, Wollis; he looked at Almark with eyes that were chillingly icy.
Who is he? Almark thought. I get the feeling he’s the son of some high-ranking noble, but his eyes… They’re like an experienced mercenary’s.
“I’ll kill you,” Tohrk growled.
Almark flashed a thin smile. “Hey, nobles don’t throw around scary threats like that. Are you sure you’re not the Northern mercenary here?”
“What?”
“Guess not. You’re not nearly strong enough to be one.” Almark smirked at Tohrk, who went red with anger.
That should be enough, thought Almark. I don’t need to keep riling him up.
“You swine!” Tohrk spat, his vocabulary unbecoming for a student.
He thrust at Almark with all his might. This time he was aiming at Almark’s face, the one spot not protected by armor. Almark dodged it by moving his head ever so slightly, and the female students screamed.
Seeing him dodge yet another powerful thrust sent Tohrk into a frenzy. He lunged for Almark’s face, throat, and chest—all spots that could be fatal. Almark, however, dodged them with all the nimbleness of a mirage, and the blows didn’t so much as graze him.
“Wow.”
The students, initially overwhelmed, started raising their voices in surprise.
“How’d he do that? Tohrk can’t hit him at all!”
“I didn’t even think that was possible.”
“It’s like Tohrk’s missing on purpose.”
“No, Almark’s just that good.”
“It’s like he knows what Tohrk’s gonna do ahead of time.”
Each time Tohrk heard someone praising Almark, his expression darkened. He pursued Almark, gritting his teeth as he kept thrusting with his sword, but he never landed a hit. Soon enough, he was gasping for breath.
“Stop skittering around, you coward…,” Tohrk spat bitterly.
Almark suddenly crouched—or so it seemed, but the next moment, his rapier landed a hit directly on Tohrk’s chest piece with a pop.
“Got you,” Almark said, raising his rapier and leaping backward.
The onlooking students cheered loudly.
“Wow, Almark won!” Morgan cried.
“No! No, this is all wrong!” Tohrk bellowed, his face flushed. “That doesn’t count as a hit!”
“Don’t be a sore loser, Tohrk,” Leila said exasperatedly.
“Shut up! I don’t care! He didn’t win!”
Almark glanced at Bohen. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like the teacher was going to step in.
Good, thought Almark.
“Fine, Tohrk,” Almark said calmly. “I can go for one more round if you want.”
“Of course I do!” Tohrk shrieked before taking position. “But under one condition.”
“What’s that?” Almark asked.