"After all, I've never really tried a weapon like this," Eric said. "Time for something new."
"All right."
Fitz tossed his Longsword aside and spread his arms. Taking their cue, two Attendants walked onto the dueling platform carrying a set of Chain Armor, padded lining, and a Helmet. They expertly helped Fitz into the padded lining and Chain Armor before fastening his Helmet.
Once Fitz was geared up, he rolled his shoulders. He then pointed at Eric's head. One of the Attendants, understanding immediately, placed a finely crafted Nasal Helmet on Eric's head.
After all, a Nail Hammer was far more lethal than a Longsword, and Chain Armor offered no protection for the head against its blows.
The surrounding spectators soon broke into cheers for their duel. From the high platform, the noblewomen and ladies cast expectant glances, offering polite applause.
"I don't believe I've had the honor of your name."
"Herald Fitz of Xialing."
"Priest Philip of Wang Bridge."
Fitz: "???"
Fitz had no idea why Eric was giving him a completely random name, but it was irrelevant now.
The click of the Helmet fastening shut echoed in Eric's ears.
The Nasal Helmet slightly narrowed his field of vision.
The scent of Metal, the smell of Leather, and the earthy aroma of the arena floor mingled together.
Eric tightened his grip on the Nail Hammer. It was much heavier than a Sword.
The iron spikes studding the hammer's head were enough to make one wince.
Fitz took his position opposite him, holding an identical weapon.
Neither man attacked immediately. They began by circling each other slowly.
The dirt under their feet loosened with each step. In the stands, the once-raucous crowd gradually fell silent.
Everyone knew this was no longer a performance.
Fitz moved first. It wasn't a reckless charge.
Just a single step. One step forward.
The Nail Hammer suddenly swung down from the upper right, its heavy head whistling through the air as it smashed toward Eric's shoulder.
Eric immediately sidestepped.
The hammer's head glanced off his Chain Armor and slammed into the ground.
THUMP!
Dirt flew in all directions.
Eric could almost feel the shock of the impact reverberate up through the soles of his feet.
If that blow had landed on bone, it would have been no laughing matter.
Eric countered with a backhanded swing of his hammer, not at Fitz's head, but in a wide sweep.
He aimed for Fitz's ribs.
Fitz retreated a step, and the hammer head scraped past his Chain Armor.
The spikes screeched across the chain links, creating a harsh, grating sound.
The two broke apart again.
Their breathing grew heavier. This weapon was nothing like a Sword.
Every swing drained their stamina.
Fitz suddenly let out a laugh. "Not bad."
The words had barely left his mouth.
He lunged forward.
This time, he didn't swing his hammer. Instead, he charged.
His shoulder slammed hard into Eric's body.
The collision of their Chain Armor made a dull thud.
Eric was knocked back half a step.
'Damn it. This guy is no slouch with a Nail Hammer either.'
In that same instant, Fitz's Nail Hammer was already in motion.
It came crashing down from above. Eric jerked the handle of his own hammer up to block.
CLANG—!
The sound of metal striking metal exploded across the arena.
It was a teeth-rattling impact.
The two Nail Hammers were locked together.
The distance between them vanished.
Their Helmets were almost touching.
Fitz said in a low voice, "Tired? We're just getting started, young Cultivator."
Before the words were out, he suddenly lifted his leg.
He viciously kicked at Eric's calf.
This was a close-quarters tactic favored by Norman Knights.
Eric's center of gravity wavered.
In the next instant, the Nail Hammer came crashing down.
THWACK!
The hammer's head slammed viciously onto Eric's shoulder.
The Chain Armor and padded lining absorbed most of the Power, but the shock of the impact still sent a numbing sensation through his entire arm.
Eric was forced back a step.
Before he could regain his footing, the second blow came.
Fitz gave him barely any room to breathe.
The Nail Hammer swept in from the side.
Eric barely managed to raise the handle of his hammer to parry.
CLANG!
The sound of metal colliding rang out across the arena.
But the blow was too heavy.
The force of the impact knocked Eric's arm back.
Fitz immediately closed in.
His footwork was flawless.
Not a single wasted motion.
The third strike came from above.
Eric was forced to retreat again.
He churned up the dirt under his feet.
A stir went through the crowd.
Anyone could see—
Eric was at a clear disadvantage.
Fitz's attacks came faster and faster.
His Nail Hammer fell again and again.
These weren't wild swings.
Each was meant to force a defense.
The shoulder.
The ribs.
The Helmet.
Each blow systematically boxed Eric in.
"What's wrong?"
Fitz said softly.
Another hammer blow fell.
"Weren't you so confident a moment ago?"
Eric blocked the blow, but he was forced to the very edge of the dueling platform.
His breathing grew ragged, his arm numb.
'This thing is much harder to wield than a Sword, and Fitz is clearly long accustomed to it.'
Another blow came. This time...
Fitz had clearly put more Power into it.
The hammer's head dropped straight down from on high, as if to smash him into the ground.
Eric didn't retreat, nor did he try to block it head-on.
The instant the hammer head fell, he suddenly angled the handle of his own hammer up to meet it.
Not to block, but to deflect.
The two weapons collided in mid-air.
Eric used the momentum to flick his wrist.
Fitz's Nail Hammer was thrown off course.
The Power slid harmlessly away along the handle.
The blow missed its mark.
In that instant.
Eric had finally found his opening.
He immediately lunged forward, closing the distance—Master's Strike!
His Nail Hammer swung up from below in a reverse arc.
THUD!
The head of the hammer slammed hard into Fitz's chest.
The Chain Armor let out a dull thud.
The force of the blow sent Fitz stumbling back a step.
The crowd erupted in gasps of surprise.
Eric took a sharp breath, steadying himself.
The Nail Hammer hung low in his hand.