Wyatt scowled when he saw Darke point her face down and skew the brim of her hat to the left slightly. She’s doing that so it’s harder for an opponent to tell what she’s looking at. He determined that she was most likely not an upstanding swordswoman, but one who preferred using dirty tricks in combat. On top of that, he’d seen her fight in his previous attack, and knew that she had taken out Dawson on the riverbed. He was well aware of her skills with a blade.
However... The red-armored knight rushed toward her, and Darke responded by slashing at him from a high left stance. Wyatt raised his sword, showing her that he’d block it. The black-clad swordswoman then missed her swing...no, she rotated and struck at Wyatt’s other side without losing her momentum. It was a typical feint. Wyatt had seen this coming, however, and dodged her slash, turning his defensive stance into a slash of his own.
“Whoa!” Darke shouted and dodged the Sword Eater, almost falling out of the way. Her hat didn’t fall off, which meant it was probably affixed to her hair with something. She regained her balance right away, and Wyatt attacked once more. As she deflected his second strike, the black-clad swordswoman leapt back to put some distance in between them.
“...Hmm.” Their exchange solidified Wyatt’s suspicions: this opponent was several levels below Gaius Beldarus in skill.
“You okay, Darke?!” A flax-colored kobold voiced his concern for the swordswoman, but the latter held her hand out to stop him from interfering. She had likely gauged the difference in their skills from that exchange as well.
“I need you to stay back, Rain Grass. That goes for the rest of you, too. I am the only one who is a match for this man.”
“Oh? How admirable,” Wyatt said. “Why, if you cry and beg forgiveness, I might just spare your life.”
“Huh? Ah, yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Darke narrowed her eyes and shook her head exaggeratedly. Wyatt was faintly irritated, as she was clearly making fun of him.
“Why’s that?”
“Hmm. Are you always so curious, Sir Why’s That?” She laughed, the sound like a frog croaking.
“...It’s ‘Wyatt.’ Do you really have any reason to side with those barbaric kobolds? Or is your duty to Beldarus that great?” Wyatt never stopped analyzing his opponent even as they spoke. She may have been a lesser opponent than the Black Rose of Igris, but that didn’t mean he’d have an easy time of it against her. He was hesitant to use more of the Scarlet Plate’s power before his confrontation with Gaius, what with the burden it placed on his body. His bones and joints were already screaming just from the two tree-eating lizards and one bugbear he’d had to deal with.
“Oh, no, it’s just, the thing is, I’ve actually never cried before, as far as I can remember, so the ‘crying and begging forgiveness’ thing... I wouldn’t know how.” The black-haired swordswoman gave another croaking laugh and then pointed her finger at Wyatt as if struck by a sudden thought. “Oh, I know! Do you think you could give me an example of proper groveling? I might be able to do it then! Would you be so kind, Sir Why’s That?”
“Enough damn foolishness.” Wyatt spat the words out distastefully and went on the offensive.
Their blades hit with a clang! as Wyatt swung down his Sword Eater and Darke blocked with her hanger. She had unexpected strength for a human woman, and Wyatt couldn’t help being impressed. Her shapely figure was likely in part because of muscle, not just body fat. More than anything, she was skilled at knowing precisely how to apply her strength. He had no way of knowing if this was a natural skill of hers or one honed through hard work. Her ghostly pallor gave off an impression of weakness, and if Wyatt had been any ordinary fighter, underestimating her because of this could have been his downfall.
She is impressive, but... Using their locked blades as a pivot, he lifted his hilt and shifted Darke’s blade to the side. This not only removed her defense, but put him in position to attack. I won’t need to use the Crimson Plate for this.
Darke pulled away and leapt back like she had earlier. Wyatt followed and lobbed an attack at her side. Darke blocked with her sword held vertically and deflected the blow. One. She went for his throat on her counterattack, but Wyatt hooked her blade and spun it away. Two. Darke tried to flee again, but he pressed his attack with a furious strike. She barely managed to deflect his sword that time. Three. After four, five, six...ten such exchanges, Darke finally managed to gain some distance from him again. The two pointed their blades at each other and went back to trying to find an opportune moment to attack.
“Whew! You’re a strong one, Sir Why’s That! Yes, indeed.” Her expression remained unchanged, but Darke couldn’t hide how hard she was breathing.
“You’re more agile than you look as well.” Wyatt, on the other hand, wasn’t breathing hard at all.
“Aw, that’s not very nice! And here I was giving you a compliment!”
“So was I. Be grateful for it.” Wyatt took a step forward. Darke took a step back.
“I see, I see. A good man has to be a good flatterer. But it’s more important to know when to quit.”
“You’ve a glib tongue.”
“Oh, and you’ve a keen eye! I am quite known for my tongue skills.” Darke slowly licked her lips with a wet and deliberate thoroughness, then muttered, “eww, spit,” and wiped at her mouth with her hand. “On closer inspection, you look quite virile and manly yourself, Sir Wyatt! ...Mhm, mhm, not bad, not bad...” She hummed to herself, in thought for a moment. “Oh, but I couldn’t. My type is more rosy-cheeked young men and sweet young women... Them, and virgin men with ugly mugs and smelly feet.”
Wyatt brought his sword hilt up to his right shoulder and pointed the blade at her, holding his sword sideways in the “key” stance. “You are no fighter. You really are nothing but a fool.” He stepped forward, unleashing a powerful thrust. Darke bent backwards and deflected the Sword Eater to her right with her hanger. Wyatt allowed the motion to carry his arm forward and changed the trajectory of his blade, whipping it around in a brutal backhand slash. Against a normal opponent, this attack from the side would probably finish things, but Darke was just barely able to defend against it. Their blades clashed again. Wyatt tried to push her backward, but Darke held her ground. They drew closer, and right when their eyes met over their locked steel...
Pfft! The black-haired swordswoman pursed her lips and spat some kind of liquid at her opponent. During her earlier jesting, she’d hidden something small inside her mouth and bit it open, spitting its contents at Wyatt to blind him.
The spray of vinegar and spices flew at Wyatt’s face, but he pulled back to avoid it. This was a technique he’d had used against him a few times in the war, and one he’d even made use of himself more than once. Since he’d judged her sword skills to be inferior to his own, he’d anticipated that she would stoop to using such tactics.