Chapter 60 The Fight
The elite training yard stood silent under a cold morning sun, the ground marked with chalk circles for the sparring matches. The ten selected elite wolves waited in a loose semicircle, real steel in their hands, eyes fixed on the center where Alberto stood alone. He wore simple leather armor, the short sword Samael had given him gripped tight in his right hand. His face was pale, but his stance was steady. The soreness from the previous night lingered in every muscle, but he refused to show it.
Darius stood on the raised podium, arms folded. Samael leaned against a post nearby, expression unreadable.
Darius raised his voice. "First match. Alberto against Bram. Real blades. First to three blood draws wins. No killing blows. Begin when I give the word."
Bram stepped forward, a massive wolf with arms like tree trunks and a scar running from temple to jaw. He twirled his longsword casually, smirking.
"Ready to bleed, keeper?" Bram called. "I will make it quick."
Alberto said nothing, only raised his sword in guard position.
Darius dropped his hand. "Begin!"
Bram charged like a bull, sword swinging in a wide arc meant to end the fight early. Alberto sidestepped at the last second, the blade whistling past his ear. He countered with a quick thrust to Bram's side, but Bram twisted and blocked, shoving Alberto back with brute force.
Alberto stumbled but recovered, circling. Bram pressed the attack, strikes coming fast and heavy. Alberto parried the first, ducked the second, but the third caught his shoulder, opening a shallow cut. Blood welled immediately.
"First blood to Bram," Darius called.
Bram grinned. "One down."
Alberto wiped the blood away and attacked, blade darting high then low. Bram blocked high and took the low strike on his thigh, a thin line of red appearing.
"First blood to Alberto," Darius said.
Bram's grin vanished. He roared and went wild, sword hammering down in overhead blows that forced Alberto to retreat. The elite wolves watched intently, some nodding approval at Bram's power.
Alberto blocked one strike, but the force numbed his arms. Bram followed with a backhand slash that Alberto barely parried. The bigger wolf pressed, blade clashing again and again, driving Alberto toward the edge of the circle.
Alberto's foot slipped on loose gravel. Bram saw the opening and thrust straight for his chest.
Alberto twisted desperately. The blade sliced across his ribs instead, deep enough to draw a gasp. Blood soaked his tunic.
"Second blood to Bram," Darius called, voice tight.
Alberto clutched his side, breathing hard. Pain flared with every movement, the soreness from the night compounding the fresh wounds. Bram circled, eyes gleaming.
"Come on, keeper," Bram taunted. "Show us why the Alpha favors you."
Alberto straightened, ignoring the blood running down his leg. He feinted left and struck right, blade slipping past Bram's guard to open a cut on his forearm.
"Second blood to Alberto," Darius said.
Bram snarled and attacked with renewed fury. His strikes came faster, wilder, no longer controlled. Alberto blocked where he could, but his arms trembled from the impact. Bram's sword slipped past his guard and slashed his upper arm, blood spraying.
"Third blood to Bram," Darius called. "Match to Bram."
Alberto dropped to one knee, sword planted in the ground for support. Blood dripped steadily from multiple wounds. His vision swam.
Bram raised his sword for a salute, grinning at the watching elites.
Darius jumped from the podium. "Enough. Take a break. All of you."
Samael moved to Alberto's side, helping him stand. "You all right?"
Alberto nodded weakly. "I will live."
Darius pulled Samael aside, voice low. "We should stop this. Alberto might not make it through nine more matches. I cannot face Fernando if something happens to him."
Samael glanced at Alberto, who was pressing a cloth to his bleeding ribs. "He won one blood draw by skill, the others by luck. Bram went wild on him."
Darius nodded. "He is tough, but not elite level yet. Not against real blades."
Samael sighed. "Fernando will not back down. He wants Alberto as head escort."
Darius rubbed his chin. "Then we train him harder after this. But today, if he takes much more, he will not walk."
They watched as a healer tended Alberto's wounds, stitching the deeper cuts.
The elites gathered, murmuring among themselves.
Kael spoke up. "He held his own longer than I thought."
Lena nodded. "But Bram had him. The rest of us will finish quicker."
Darius raised his voice. "Next match in ten minutes. Rest and prepare."
Alberto stood, testing his bandaged arm. "I am ready."
Samael shook his head. "Stubborn."
Darius watched him. "Like the Alpha."
The yard prepared for the next fight, tension thick in the air.
Darius on the podium raised his hand. "Second match. Alberto against Kael. Real blades. First to three blood draws wins. Begin!"
Kael grinned and lunged with a powerful thrust. Alberto sidestepped and countered immediately, blade flashing toward Kael's side. Kael blocked but Alberto was already moving, striking high then low without pause.
Kael parried the high strike but the low one nicked his calf. Blood welled.
"First blood to Alberto," Darius called.
The elites murmured in surprise. Kael's grin vanished. He retreated a step to calculate.
Alberto did not let him. He pressed forward, sword darting in a flurry of strikes. Left, right, high, low, feint to the chest then slash at the arm. Kael blocked most but Alberto's speed kept him off-balance.
"Stand still!" Kael growled, swinging a wide arc to create space.
Alberto ducked under it and sliced Kael's forearm. More blood.
"Second blood to Alberto," Darius said, voice neutral but eyes sharp.
The yard went quiet. The elites leaned forward. Samael folded his arms, watching closely.
Kael's face reddened. He tried to counter, thrusting straight for Alberto's heart. Alberto twisted aside and raked his blade across Kael's thigh, drawing a thin line of red.
"Third blood to Alberto," Darius announced. "Match to Alberto."
The elites erupted in disbelief.
"How?" Lena whispered.
"He did not give him a chance to breathe," Rorik said.
Kael stood panting, blood dripping from three wounds. Then he lost it. His eyes flashed gold, body rippling as fur burst across his skin. He transformed into a massive wolf, larger than any in the yard, jaws snapping, claws digging into the earth.
He lunged at Alberto with a roar that shook the racks.
Samael shot to his feet. "Stop the fight! He shifted! That is against the rules!"
Darius held up a hand. "Let it play out. If this was a real battlefield, Alberto would have to save his head or lose it."
Samael glared at him. "This is training, not war!"
Darius's voice was calm. "And war does not follow rules."
Kael's wolf form barreled forward, jaws wide for Alberto's throat. Alberto dove aside, rolling and coming up with his sword. The wolf spun faster than something that size should, claws raking the air where Alberto had been.
Alberto slashed at the wolf's flank, opening a shallow cut. Kael howled and swiped with a paw. The blow caught Alberto's shoulder, sending him flying across the circle. He hit the ground hard, sword skidding away.
Kael pounced.
Alberto rolled desperately, grabbing his sword just in time to thrust upward. The blade sank into Kael's chest as the wolf landed on him. Hot blood poured over Alberto's hands.
The wolf yelped and staggered back, transforming back to human form. Kael clutched the wound, blood bubbling between his fingers.
Darius jumped from the podium. "Match over. Alberto wins."
Kael changed back fully, face twisted in rage. He pointed at Darius and Samael. "Partiality! He used his keeper eyes to foresee my moves! That is cheating!"
Samael stormed forward, voice booming. "You shifted first! The rules said real blades, not wolf form! You cheated, and Alberto still won! Accept it or leave the elite!"
Kael spat blood. "He is no warrior. He is a forest freak!"
Samael seized Kael by the throat. "One more word and I end you."
Darius stepped between them. "Enough. Kael, to the healers. The rest of you, dismissed for the day. We resume tomorrow."
The elites dispersed, murmuring about the fight.
Samael released Kael with a shove. "Get out of my sight."
Kael limped away, glaring over his shoulder.
Darius turned to Alberto, who was on his knees, breathing hard, blood not his own covering him.
"You did well," Darius said. "Get cleaned up. Rest."
Alberto nodded and stood shakily, walking from the yard with his head high.
The elites watched him go in silence.