"Oh, did you really think that by changing weapons, you could beat a prince like me—someone who's trained with a sword since I was eight?" Johan sneered, his voice filled with pride.
"You talk too much. Now I get why those dwarves hated me." Luck lunged. His bat cut through the air with a sharp whistle.
Johan hesitated, caught off guard by the speed of the swing. He dodged and lost the chance to strike back.
Just when he thought he was safe, Luck swung again—fast and smooth—proving the metal bat was lighter than it looked.
The bat almost grazed Johan's cheek, but he used the opening to strike at Luck's side—fast and clean.
It connected, but Luck deflected it—blunt meeting sharp with a solid clash.
Before Johan could reset his stance, a sneaker slammed into his chest. He stumbled back.
thud!
The prince hit the ground hard.
Another strike came down fast, aiming to end the fight.
Johan rolled away just in time. Dust scattered. He pushed himself up, sword in hand, breathing hard.
"Changed your mind?" Luck taunted.
"You low life commoner..." Johan growled through clenched teeth.
They circled each other until —
Johan made the first move. He stepped in fast and hard, closing the distance in a blink.
Luck jumped back—but Johan didn't stop there.
Instead the prince leapt forward, closed the new gap in no time.
clang!
Luck was able blocked it, but the point of the sword skimmed his wrist. Blood welled instantly—hot, slick, a warning.
"I'm not done yet, commoner! Let me show you the difference between a peasant and royalty!"
Johan advanced, done playing games.
clang!
clang!
clang!
Luck parried and dodged, retreating as his sneakers carved small crescents into the dirt
For the first time, he wasn't sure if he could win this fight.
Now, everything felt real.
Until now, he treated his fight like a game—even battles with wolves or dwarves.
Facing this skilled opponent showed him the stakes: one mistake meant death.
The threat ignited something deep. His heart raced, adrenaline surged, and his reflexes sharpened.
"DIE!" Johan's blade came down fast.
Luck's body moved before he had time to think. He ducked under the swing. The air whistled around him as the blade missed by inches, close enough to feel.
Then he jumped back and swung the bat around before letting it rest on his shoulder.
The threat of death wasn't paralyzing. It was fuel.
"Thanks. Because of you, I can finally break through my limits again." Luck's voice went cold, and his eyes tightened with a dark look.
A wide grin spread across his lips as he licked the blood from his wrist. "I'll make sure you pay for this—ten times over."
Johan swallowed hard.
He didn't expect to see so much killing intent. Usually, only veteran warriors who killed hundreds carried that kind of aura. But the person in front of him was radiating it now—cold and deadly.
In that fraction: he noted every tremble in Johan's arms, the slight over-commit of his lead foot. The pattern of his breathing, the glint of sweat on his cheek.
Luck chuckled low. "I can smell your fear."
"You're bluffing!" Johan feinted high and swept low, a cunning cut toward the knee.
"You should have listened. I already see the path your sword will take."
Luck let the tip of the blade pass through empty air as he pivoted.
Seizing the moment, he swung his bat down hard, smashing into the prince's wrist. The blow forced out the sword from his grasp.
However, Johan was no stranger to hand-to-hand combat. He recovered quickly and kicked the bat away to even the fight.
Fists and kicks flew as they squared off, neither giving an inch.
Then it all tipped in Luck's favor, after he tackled the prince hard and slammed him to the ground.
Johan landed a punch that split Luck's lip.
Luck returned it with a headbutt.
bang!
Pain shot through Johan's skull, blood streaming from his nose.
Even then, the prince refused to back down, and the fight turned into a full-on brawl.
They rolled in the dirt for who knows how long, scrabbling, punching , and gnashing like wild animals.
But soon Luck had the prince pinned, forearm pressed against the windpipe.
They gasped in tandem, breathing out hot air mixed with sweat ,blood and spit. Johan's face showed pure anger.
However, he already lost the fight, trapped in a tight Anaconda choke. Even the best MMA fighters who mastered grappling couldn't break free from this hold so easily.
Also, Luck could easily snap his opponent's neck like a twig in this position.
"I surrender," Johan croaked.
Luck didn't let go.
"I surrender, you maniac!"
"Sorry to break it to you, but I'm not planning to let you live. It's not personal... okay, maybe it is. But honestly, you brought this on yourself by being such a pain in the ass."
Johan's face turned pale. He hadn't expected to lose like this. Though they were nearly equal in a fistfight, Luck was clearly better on the ground.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Neve peeking through the door.
"Princess, I'm here to rescue you. Please help me! This mad man is trying to kill me!" he called out urgently.