A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1453 - 1453: Impressive Talents - Part 2

From the start, Gar stood out as an outcast. Everyone in that round, without exception, wore armour – and being that they were Captains, for the most part, those were excellent quality pieces of armour too. Next to them, Gar looked beneath even peasant status. He was ragged, and filthy, but none it seemed were happier to be there than he.

A knight in full plate pounced on Gar from the off, seemingly having selected him as an easy target, whilst they had been waiting around for the bell to be rung. He attacked him from Gar's blindspot, just off to the side, and he looked set to secure himself a first easy knockout. Gar's blade wasn't even drawn yet.

"Hm..? CHEATER!" Gar shouted at him angrily, as he pounced out of the way of the incoming sword blow, and pointed an accusing finger at the knight.

"H-how's it cheating!? It's a free-for-all, you fool!" The man explained in a panic. If they could see his face, beneath his full-mask helmet, Oliver supposed that he might have gone red. No one wanted to be accused of cheating in front of such a large crowd.

"Cheater, cheat, cheater," Gar continued, drawing his sword, and stamping his foot. "Weak too!" He declared.

Suddenly, the knight's helmet was on the floor.

It wasn't as if the knight had made any sort of mistake. His sword was raised in a high guard, ready to block any attack that should be delivered his way. But the young Gar had simply been too fast from him. He'd dashed underneath him, before he could respond, and knocked the man's helm free with the hilt of his sword.

"Cheater, cheater!" Gar said, not giving the man a moment to rest. Suddenly put in the light of the sun, it took the man a second to gather himself, before he realized what had happened.

"That was fast…" Firyr muttered uncertainly. "Did any of you see that?"

"Barely," Lasha replied with narrowed eyes.

If they'd hoped to see through any more of Gar's moves in the next exchange, then they would have been sorely disappointed. With a similar level of speed, Gar sped past the man, as if ignoring him, and racing to another part of the arena.

"GET BACK HERE!" The knight fumed at having been made a fool of, but before he could mount a pursuit, a strong arm stopped him.

"You're out," Kaya declared to him, pointing to the cut on the man's cheek.

"What?" The man felt for the wound, and looked at the mole-skin gloves on his hands, seeing them come away red.

"He's stupidly fast, goddamnit…" Firyr complained, his shoulders sinking. He'd spent all last night bragging about how, with this level of competition, he could overturn the Captain's tournament and secure victory for himself. No doubt seeing someone like Gar put a significant dampener on that.

Oliver murmured his agreement. As fast as the boy was, Oliver still had trouble placing his strength directly. He never seemed to actually be exerting himself in a fight. It was more as if he was playing angrily in a sandpit that was exclusively his, and lamenting the fact that what he'd built wasn't as perfect as he would have liked him.

They followed the boy around the arena with their gazes, and saw him interrupt a number of duels, without worry for decorum, giving every man that came within reach just the slightest little cuts, enough to get them out of the fight. By the time it was all over, he'd sliced ten men himself, and hadn't once looked close to being caught out himself.

With stunned expressions, they saw him stand there waving, amongst the victors, as he was welcomed into the next round.

"We're going to have to fight him," Verdant said thoughtfully. "That, no doubt, shall prove interesting."

"I think you might have the best chance, Lasha," Oliver said. "In a battle of speed, I think you might be able to match him. And you have the range with your rapier to stay clear of his sword."

"If you think so, my Lord, then I shall not disappoint you," Blackthorn said. "It would be embarrassing to lose to someone who dribbles."

"That's your primary concern…?" Nila said with a strained look. "I'm worried for you all. I thought for sure it would be easy for you to secure a placement. They really are all strong, aren't they? It's not just Gar. Every one of those men that made it through this round seems dangerous."

Oliver murmured his agreement. It was bound to happen, when you gathered so many officers in one place, and ordered them filtered down in a tournament – naturally, you would only be left with the strongest. But still, it surprised him to see just how strong they were. He didn't realize that there were Captains of such quality wandering around the rest of the kingdom. He was able to identify a good handful of them as Third Boundary men. He knew that getting past their like would be difficult for his Commanders, but he dared not say anything more that might dishearten them.

"And now there's only another round of the Captain's tournament before we get into the final free-for-all, and then it'll be on to the duels," Oliver said.

"A good goal might be to make that final twenty," Verdant said, as realistic as always. He'd recognized, in the same way that Oliver had, that with the Third Boundary men, there was likely little they could do to make it all the way to the top.

"I want to be in the final four at least," Firyr said with a twist of his lips. "Anythin' less than that is a loser's position, I tell ya."

"Okay. I'll remember that for when you lose," Blackthorn said with a deadpan expression.

"H-hey, Lord Idris? Wasn't what she just said kind of ruthless?" Firyr said.

"It is not 'she', Commander Firyr. It is Lady Blackthorn, or Commander Blackthorn," Verdant said, refusing to come to his aid.

Soon enough, the melee general melee for those below the rank of Captain would be having its next round. Just like with the Captain's tournament, it was nearing its final couple of rounds. 'if Jorah, Kaya, and Karesh wish to make it to the duels, they'll have to get through two more rounds,' Oliver thought to himself.