Luren woke up to a loud commotion outside. His heart pounded as he rushed to the window. Through the glass, he saw Craige and Cassian locked in a fierce swordfight in
the courtyard. Panic surged in his chest.
Without even realizing what he was wearing, he bolted down the stairs.
"Why are they fighting?" Luren asked breathlessly, approaching Keith, who stood beside Clara and a few Western knights.
"They've been fighting since dawn," Keith replied, his eyes still fixed on the clash.
"They're not holding back."
Luren's stomach turned. How can they talk it out if they're like this? Without thinking, he reached for a knight's sword and dashed straight into the middle of the duel.
Craige saw him from the corner of his eye and immediately halted his attack, eyes wide in shock.
But Cassian didn't stop.
Still mid-swing, his blade cut through the air, aiming straight for Craige, but now Luren was in the way.
"What is going on here?!" bellowed the voice of Former Duke Castelo, arriving just as the chaos peaked.
"LUREN!" Clara and Keith screamed as they saw Cassian's blade heading straight for
Luren's neck.
Luren swung his sword with all his might, desperate to stop the blow, but his blade was too slow. Cassian's sword slipped past, too fast, too strong, too late to stop.
Even Cassian's eyes widened in horror. He tried to pull back, but momentum carried him forward.
Everything happened in an instant.
Steel sang. Gasps filled the air. Blood... maybe.
***
Craige headed to the training ground as soon as he woke up. He already knew Cassian would be there, he always was, even before the sun touched the horizon.
"What the hell! Are you still here?" Cassian barked the moment he saw him, his voice
sharp and full of resentment.
Craige didn't flinch. "Hey, you know Arabelle likes someone else. She doesn't want to
marry me."
Cassian scoffed, his expression turning dark. "Even if she did, you wouldn't marry her. Because you like men."
Craige's eyes narrowed. "Luren is the only man I like. No, he's the only one I've ever
loved!"
"I don't give a damn about your love life!" Cassian spat, throwing his towel to the ground. "Just get out of my duchy."
Craige exhaled slowly, his patience hanging by a thread. How could he get through to this stubborn man?
"The King is asking for your support," he said firmly. "It's your duty as Duke to answer
the call."
Cassian's jaw clenched. "And where were you when we needed the West's help during the barbarian attack at the border?" His voice was quiet but cut deep. "I didn't hold
it against you… because I knew I failed you first, as a friend. I guess we're even now."
Craige looked away for a brief moment. The weight of the past hung between them.
Cassian remained silent, but guilt stirred in his eyes. He remembered how the Western
forces hesitated. By the time he had made up his mind, the royal guards had already arrived. Craige, though wounded and outnumbered, had held the line and claimed victory at the border.
Finally, Cassian stepped back and grabbed a sword. "If you can defeat me in a duel, I'll
consider supporting the King."
He tossed the second sword at Craige's feet. Without another word, Craige picked it up.
The clang of steel rang through the morning air.
They charged.
Blades clashed in a dance of fury and familiarity. Craige dodged a vicious swing and countered with a sweeping strike, which Cassian narrowly blocked. Their feet
slid over gravel, muscles straining, breaths heavy. Each blow was personal, years of trust and betrayal, pain and pride, exploding in steel and sparks.
Neither spoke.
Neither surrendered.
Morning broke across the sky, casting golden light over the training ground. A crowd had formed, knights, servants, and nobles alike, drawn by the fierce clang of
steel echoing through the cold air.
Most had been roused from sleep, still in nightclothes, but none dared interrupt. Who
would dare step between two ducal heirs locked in battle?
"What an intense fight," Clara whispered in awe as she pushed through the crowd. She had hurried over the moment she noticed people gathering. Her breath caught in her
throat as she saw the two men.
Craige and Cassian moved like storms, fast, unrelenting, and deadly.
Their swords crashed again, the sheer force vibrating through their arms. Dust kicked
up around them. Sweat dripped from their brows, and their breathing had grown ragged. But neither yielded.
Cassian struck high, aiming for Craige's shoulder, but Craige twisted away, just a
second too late. The blade sliced through his arm, red blooming across his sleeve.
Craige gritted his teeth and retaliated with a sharp step forward. With a fluid motion, he turned his blade and slashed across Cassian's forearm.
Cassian hissed, blood sliding down his arm, his grip tightening on the hilt despite the pain.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"They're hurting each other…" Clara murmured, unable to look away. Her chest tightened. This wasn't just a fight. This was years of resentment, friendship, betrayal,
burning into every blow.
Still, neither backed down.
Their blades locked, faces inches apart, eyes blazing.
"You always did fight like your life depended on it," Cassian muttered through clenched
teeth.
"Because it does," Craige growled back, pushing harder.
Around them, no one spoke. No one moved.