B4 Chapter 55: Come and See

Neither Quintus nor Grund moved immediately. Quintus kept his grip on his gladius and shield, still scanning for hidden weapons. But the orc made no move to produce such a thing. He merely stood with his hands slightly open, as though ready to grab.

Without a blade or weapon, Quintus would have a significant advantage---particularly in this context. Drawing first blood would prove far more difficult without a bladed weapon to brandish. Though maybe that was the orc's point. Maybe all of that talk about not holding a grudge was just that---talk. Or perhaps Grund thought he could hurl the Legatus out of the ring more easily than he could inflict a single cut.

Quintus wasn't naive enough to think either impossible, though. The orc still boasted teeth and tusks that may prove his undoing if they got close enough. And though [Sure Footing] would certainly help to keep him from being thrown through the air, he doubted it would make him immune to other forms of submission. Tossing someone around was quite a bit easier once they were unconscious.

They eyed each other warily, circling slowly as each waited for the other to move. The crackling of many cookfires and shouts of working Legionnaires filled the air with a steady background din. Gaius watched from just outside the makeshift ring, and Quintus felt both his eyes and those of the Legionnaires encircling them. Neither would move to help him in this battle. Not unless it became clear that his opponent meant to draw more than first blood.

The wind shifted, carrying a few curls of smoke and ash their way. It wasn't enough to obscure their vision entirely. But it was enough.

Quintus flashed forward, his sword leading the way with a testing blow. He sped its path slightly with [Sword Saint's Blade], cutting a clean and efficient arc through the air. But that was it. He held back the rest of his abilities, not wanting to kill the orc outright.

Grund didn't even shift his feet. The orc batted the blade away with a contemptuous backhand even as his other hand darted forward. Quintus pivoted around the grab and ended up behind Grund as the orc spun on the ball of one foot, elegantly landing in a very similar stance. His breathing remained even.

"With all due respect, Legatus." Grund spoke, his eyes never leaving Quintus for an instant. "I am not so flimsy as the paper that your people are so fond of using. It would behoove us both to move past this initial testing phase with a little more haste."

Despite the obvious challenge in the words, the orc's tone was the very picture of politeness. Quintus snorted. "If you insist."

"I do." Grund shifted his stance slightly, lowering an inch.

Quintus readied himself again. The orc's reaction speed had made it clear that he was on the more capable end of the spectrum. But was that the extent of his abilities?

He flashed forward again, a blur of red and iron. Once again, the orc moved to intercept the blow. This time, Grund caught the sword by the blade, his hand glowing a faint white color as it made contact. The edge failed to pierce his palm as Grund lunged forward and grabbed for Quintus' wrist.

Quintus twisted the blade in a practiced motion and hooked his foot behind Grund's ankle. He pulled, intending to throw the orc off balance, but found him significantly heavier and more stable than expected. Grund sprang into action to reverse the maneuver, yet found his own efforts thwarted by [Sure Footing].

Quintus took advantage of Grund's momentary surprise to twist, heaving and stretching until one of the orc's feet finally left the ground. He turned to finish the maneuver and bring his opponent to the ground, but didn't get the chance. The orc released Quintus's sword and wrist as he extended a hand backward, turning his tumble into a cartwheel that carried him out of Quintus's range and safely away from the follow-up sword strike sent his way.

He didn't give his opponent time to recover. Quintus charged forward again, his shield outstretched as he aimed to corner his opponent against the human walls of their encirclement. Best to keep the pressure up while he could, lest the opponent get any ideas.

He lacked many of the advantages he would usually have fighting as part of his Legion. Without [Coordinated Bulwark] or [Lead from the Front], his defenses and stats lacked the usual assortment of empowerments he'd become accustomed to using. A Legionnaire wasn't meant to fight alone after all. But that didn't mean he was helpless.

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The windblade hung from his belt, inert for the moment but ready to draw at a moment's notice. Despite his words, he still continued to hold back slightly. His purpose here was to gain a measure of the orc, not kill him outright. And while he would utilize his skills when an appropriate opening presented itself, he had no intention of outright killing Grund. Meaning that his most versatile tool would remain sheathed for now.

Grund lunged forward, his fist flashing. Quintus raised his shield to meet the attack, the metal umbo in its center meeting it. The orc's hands flared white and Quintus heard the metal squeal slightly. But it held, deflecting the blow and Grund off to the side with a quick twist. Grund recovered with astonishing speed, coming in too close for a blade swipe and turning to grab at the edge of the shield with his other hand, but Quintus was ready. He drove the pommel of his gladius into the side of the orc.

Grund let out a small grunt and retreated, checking the wound. "No blood. But I suspect it will bruise."

"The pommel is round, not sharp," Quintus pointed out. "Otherwise this would be over."

"Perhaps." The orc bared his tusks in a way that Quintus took as a smile. "But for now, we continue."

They both launched forward again, both combatants exchanging a rapid flurry of strikes, parries, and blocks that increased in speed until they were nearly invisible to the eye. A few more times Grund attempted to wrest away the shield like prying the shell off a turtle, but each time Quintus managed to keep hold. Though that wasn't to say he was entirely successful himself. The orc was quick, nimble enough to dodge each sword strike sent his way with the graceful movements of a dancer. Only a few bashes from shield and pommel actually connected, and none brought the match to an end.

Quintus had to admit that in terms of raw ability, the orc probably had him beat. The way he moved and the power he put into his blows made it clear that his stats were something to be respected. Yet despite Grund's obvious practice and skill, Quintus did get the sense that he had more experience in battle. Perhaps it was a consequence of orcs having short lifespans, or perhaps this orc in particular hadn't been quite as eager to rush to the front lines as his brethren. But between that and his own rather impressive skill levels, Quintus felt that he had a definite advantage.

After another minute, Quintus decided that he had a good sense of his opponent and moved to push their bout a little further. He dipped his shield slightly, leaving the slightest opening for his opponent. Grund went for it. Quintus snapped the shield back into place quickly, already bringing his sword around for a counterattack at an unexpected angle.

[Tactician's Awareness] screamed at him. The intensity of the response nearly caught Quintus off guard, but he reacted quickly. He abandoned the shield and spun away, abruptly launching himself away in a different direction with [Sure Footing].

His response was almost too slow. Grund's eyes flared red. His entire body swelled as power flooded through every muscle, adding several inches to his height. His hand chopped toward the shield, the white glow seeming to coalesce around it in the form of a blade. The hand cut the shield clear in half from top to bottom, completely ignoring both the metal reinforcements and the center umbo. The attack just narrowly missed Quintus's gauntleted fingers as he leapt away.

Quintus skidded across the grass and watched the twin pieces of his shield clatter to the ground. His eyes met Grund's. "It seems that I was not the only one holding back."

To his surprise, the orc smiled again. His eyes continued to blaze red. "I apologize. I wished to approach this in the manner of a friendly spar. However, it has become clear that more effort will be required from my part."

Quintus had, of course, noticed that the orc fighting without using his trademark skill. And he had heard about the changes from [Battle Lust] to [Battle Trance]. Yet hearing about it and seeing it were different matters altogether. The fact that Grund remained coherent in this state was a complete turnaround from Quintus's last experiences against the orcs. And though his muscles still strained with barely-repressed violence, it was clear that he had a greater mastery over himself than expected.

He glanced at his gauntlet. The tiny white line of a scratch marred its fingers, the smallest flaw against the freshly polished metal. The attack hadn't cut through. But Quintus certainly didn't want to receive one directly.

Grund's body condensed slightly, his swollen muscles becoming more compact as Quintus watched. The orc took up his battle stance once more. "In truth, I partially expected the battle to end there. But since we continue... Perhaps you will grace me with more of your own abilities?"

Quintus glanced at the shield. In truth, it hadn't been helping him too much. In a one-on-one fight, a massive shield made it more difficult to turn and be nimble. He was probably better off with the freedom of movement that a simple gladius would allow. Especially now that he knew the orc could cut through it like that.

He took up a defensive stance. "Come and see for yourself."

Grund grinned and launched forward once more.