Chapter 46: Physical Combat Training: Bellamy Vs Cordelia.

Bellamy let out a low whistle from somewhere near the back, still hanging around where Wren was.

"I guess that’s me!" He said to a flustered Wren as he stepped away, waving a not-so surreptitious good bye.

Bellamy sauntered up to the weapon rack with the easy confidence of someone about to enjoy himself regardless of outcome, running his fingers along a few options before settling on a slim saber.

He handled it in a light light, elegant way. The sword having more ornamental hilt-work than a first-year practical class probably called for, though after adjusting, he wielded it with a loose, showy flourish that suggested he’d actually trained with something like it before.

Cordelia, by contrast, walked straight to the largest weapon on the rack without hesitation.

A zweihander nearly as tall as she was.

It required both hands just to lift it properly off the mount. She tested its weight with a single efficient sweep, entirely unbothered by the size difference between herself and the blade.

"That’s a lot of sword for someone who spends most of her free time in the artificer’s hall." Darrow said from next to Elian, voice somewhat terrified.

They both stepped on to the podium, Bellamy first, followed by Cordelia.

Bellamy gave her a polite bow.

"Let’s do our best."

"I don’t do things by half measures anways, It should be a given."

Cordelia settled into a low, grounded stance, both hands braced on the hilt, point angled steady toward him.

"I don’t think we’ve met properly yet, I’m Cordelia Ashworth."

"Bellamy Sterling."

Reyes called the start, and Bellamy opened with a quick, showy feint.

It was testing, more performance than genuine attack, the kind of opening move built to look good rather than land clean.

Cordelia didn’t take the bait, obviously, having seen the pattern more than enough time in today’s class.

In fact, she didn’t even retreat, didn’t do anything except step forward and swing the massive blade in a single, committed arc that Bellamy barely managed to avoid by throwing himself sideways, saber coming up a half-second too late to have actually blocked it if it had landed.

"Okay!" Bellamy said, scrambling back upright. "That’s... that’s a lot of force for a first exchange."

"I did warn you." She shrugged.

Cordelia was already resetting into a new attack, blade steady despite its weight, entirely unbothered by the effort it should have cost her to swing something that size.

"Half measures aren’t really in my nature."

Bellamy came at her before she could attack, faster this time. His saber a quick, precise blur aimed at an opening along her guard.

And she simply didn’t give him the courtesy of finishing the strike, the zweihander’s reach and her own relentless, grounded pressure effortlessly deflecting Bellamy’s thrust.

He backed off, circled, tried again from a different line.

Same result.

Elian, watching from the sideline, saw the exact moment something shifted in Bellamy’s expression—not fear, not really, more like rapid, silent recalculation.

Bellamy stepped back fully, lowered the saber, and raised his free hand.

"I yield."

The room went thoroughly silent.

Even Cordelia looked faintly surprised, lowering the massive blade with visible effort through her shock.

Reyes crossed the floor, brow raised.

"That was a whole of four exchanges. You didn’t even take a single hit."

"I know."

Bellamy said it lightly, same easygoing smile stretched on his face, though there was nothing performed about the honesty underneath it.

"I also know I wasn’t going to land one either. She’s not fighting at my level, not even close mind you. You saw it yourself, everything I tried, she’d already accounted for before I finished committing to it."

Cordelia blinked, saber tip dropping more, caught entirely off guard by the assessment.

"So I yield,"

Bellamy continued, shrugging.

"I’d rather lose on my own terms in four exchanges than lose badly in ten trying to prove a point nobody needed proven, and end up with something being broken."

Reyes studied him for a long moment, something shifting behind his usual flat assessment—not quite surprise, closer to recalculating an assumption he’d apparently already made and hadn’t expected to be wrong about.

"Hmm." he said finally, visibly impressed.

"That’s the smartest thing anyone’s said in this class all day."

He turned to Cordelia next, tone sharpening back into instruction.

"Ashworth. Where in the world did you learn to swing something that size like it weighs nothing?"

"Genetics," Cordelia said, entirely matter-of-fact, resting the blade’s tip against the ground now that the duel was over.

"I’m naturally strong, being from the Ashworth line."

A pause.

"It also helps that I decided a long time ago the solution for fighting was picking the heaviest weapon available and getting good enough with it that it everything else stopped mattering."

Reyes stared at her for a long time, then shook his head slowly, entirely dumbfounded, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half smile.

"Sterling, Ashworth—off to the side. That’s now the third pair today that’s made me reconsider what a bunch of first-years are supposed to look like."

A sigh.

"I feel like this one is going to be a long year" He murmered before turning to his ledger. "Last duel for today, Valcourt and Kade."

Elian flinched at the sound of his own name, snapping out of whatever half-daze he’d settled into watching the last few fights unfold.

Kade a broad shouldered boy with a serious look, answered with a loud ’Yes’.

"Valcourt!" Reyes called again, flat, already glancing up from his ledger with the particular patience of a man repeating himself once and once only.

"Right. Yes."

Elian carefully unwound the snake from his wrist. The overly friendly thing protested with a small, indignant hiss at being relocated, coiling reluctantly back toward Milena’s offered arm.

"You survived the great beast, congrats."

Milena said sarcastically, taking him back with the ease of someone reclaiming a very small, very opinionated house guest.

"Barely. He tried to eat my sleeve twice, even hissed at me when I tried to stop him from nibbling on it."

"He was being affectionate."

Elian frowned.

"That’s what worries me."