Chp.30: The duel

The news of the duel soon spread throughout the camp. The chieftains had announced it publicly and the guards who were outside the tent at the time of the discussion had told everyone exactly what had happened. And the reaction had been exactly what Sarpa had wanted.

The soldiers were outraged, especially those of the Frakuard tribe, who were certain that the one who had killed their chieftain was Ostar. Even all the soldiers under Sarpa's command, belonging to the Shack tribe, the Bolvek tribe and several other minor tribes, despised Ostar for his shamelessness: how could he accuse their commander of a murder that occurred when he was busy fighting the fairies at several kilometers away? The rest of the army felt the same way too. Ultimately, for everyone, Sarpa had done the right thing to react in that way and to challenge Ostar to protect his honor, and indeed he had been even too kind to not lose his temper right from the start given the arrogance that his rival had shown.

From the point of view of the ogres, Ostar was an assassin who wanted absolute power and was trying any means to get it, while Sarpa was the brave and kind commander who only cared about his soldiers and challenged his opponent only to protect his dignity. Ostar knew that this was exactly what Sarpa wanted; he had to admit that his enemy had played his cards well. Surely he was a skilled strategist. However, he had made a mistake in challenging him: their difference in strength was too great.

Sarpa was only in the initial stage of the level gold, while Ostar was at the level diamond. And even if Sarpa had further surreptitiously enhanced his strength in some way unknown to him, he lacked experience in hand-to-hand combat. Ostar was sure he could win. Although he had earned the dislike of the whole army, now he had the opportunity to put his troublesome rival out of the way.

As soon as it was noon, the drums began to beat. Both contenders emerged from their tents wearing only an animal skin: armor wasn't permitted in a duel. They didn't even have boots, because they would have been considered as protection of the body, and therefore technically 'armor'. The two of them walked confidently towards the center of the military camp, where a small arena had been set up. Several thousand soldiers were there to watch the fight, and moved to let them pass as soon as they saw them.

The two contenders stopped on both sides of the arena, glaring at each other ferociously. In the center of the arena, clearly visible for all to see, was a table full of weapons. Sarpa and Ostar stood still until the drums stopped playing, then, as soon as one of them signaled the end with a blow much stronger than the others, both walked to the table to choose their weapons.

As soon as they got to the table, they both locked eyes. That was the last chance to retreat: the second they both had a weapon, it would no longer have been possible for both of them to leave the arena alive. For a second there was silence and no one moved a muscle; the tension was so palpable that it could be cut with a knife. Then, they both looked away and stared at the table, starting to choose their weapons.

Ostar chose a large sword with a two-handed sword. Sarpa instead took an axe very similar to the one he usually used. Once they were both sure of their choice of weapons, they turned and headed back to the edges of the arena, but this time they stopped midway and glared back at each other in ferocity. A couple of ogres entered the arena and carried the table away, leaving the space completely empty for the two of them.

For an entire minute, no one said a word or moved a muscle. A minute that seemed eternal to everyone. Then, an ogre pounded his drum again, making a loud sound that reverberated throughout the camp.

At that point, everything changed.

Both Sarpa and Ostar abandoned their positions and ran into each other. Their movement was so rapid that many ogres weren't even able to see it. They both channeled all of their mana into their arms, and then swung their weapons. The sword and the axe collided in the center of the arena, so hard that the ground split.

But it didn't end there. Ostar quickly swung his sword and began to slash at his opponent with slash after slash. His movements were so rapid as to be almost invisible to the naked eye. He had no intention of giving Sarpa even a moment of relief.

But to his surprise, Sarpa didn't let himself be hit. Normally, any opponent would have been covered in cuts at that point; instead, Sarpa had just a few scratches. He swung his axe with extreme skill using it as if it were a shield, parrying almost all of his opponent's attacks.

Ostar was furious, but he didn't let himself get angry; he kept his mind clear and channeled even more mana into his arms, attacking faster and harder and harder. Sooner or later, Sarpa would no longer have been able to resist him. He could already see that he was backing away slightly, and his teeth were grinding with the effort…

But suddenly, Sarpa jumped back; the movement was so sudden that Ostar fell forward carried by the force of his own attack. Taking advantage of this Sarpa leapt again, this time forward, and swung his axe to strike him square in the neck. Ostar raised his sword just in time to parry the blow.

As the two weapons collided, there was a bang. Ostar felt his arms ache from the force of the impact and his body was pulled back slightly, kicking up dirt and dust. But Sarpa didn't stop: he moved the axe in the opposite direction and quickly exchanged it with the other hand, hitting him again. And then again, and again. Ostar managed to parry all the blows, but the strength they had was enough to make him grind his teeth and cause him much fatigue.

Then Sarpa did something unexpected: he backed away quickly and threw his axe at Ostar. The weapon flew through the space between them at full speed; Ostar acted on instinct and raised his sword to protect himself. The two weapons clashed again, but in the brief instant that happened Sarpa lunged at him and kicked him full in the chest. With his hands busy stopping the axe, Ostar didn't have time to react. The blow was so strong that it made him spit blood and for a moment he was completely disoriented. Sarpa took advantage of that distraction and took up his axe, which still hadn't touched time because of how many seconds had passed, and prepared to cleanly cut off his rival's neck. Ostar managed to recover at the last second and dodged, but he didn't have time to do it completely: the axe hit his shoulder squarely, severing his arm cleanly.

Ostar roared in pain and unleashed an immense amount of mana in his body; it was such that his body suddenly became hot and this generated a small shock wave around him. Sarpa, surprised, withdrew several steps, leaving his rival the possibility of understanding what had happened.

Ostar was shocked: he didn't expect to suffer such a wound! Sarpa couldn't just be a level gold… could it be that… he was a level diamond too? How was it possible to achieve such strength in such a short time? Was he really Baat's favorite? "How... How!?" he couldn't help exclaiming.

"While you lay down in your tent, I fought on the front lines!" Sarpa answered. "I learned how to fight strong opponents!". Obviously, he would never have told him that the secret of his new strength lay in the runes he hid under the animal skin he wore, or in the dragon's blood he drank a few days ago.

Ostar panicked. He was now crippled and his opponent seemed to have a clear strategy in mind. Suddenly it was all clear to him: Sarpa hadn't accidentally challenged him in a moment of anger... he knew exactly what he was doing! That challenge was exactly what he wanted! Sarpa had challenged him not to protect his honor, but because he already knew he would have won!

But he didn't have time to think about how to survive: Sarpa attacked again. Ostar was forced to use his only good arm to defend himself. The roles had reversed: now he was the one struggling to resist against the relentless attack of his opponent. In that situation, he didn't have a chance to last long.

And indeed, in the end, Sarpa was able to overcome his defense; Ostar's guard, due to all the mental and physical effort he had been subjected to, staggered for a very short second, and that was enough for him. Sarpa struck his opponent on the wrist; even if he only hit him with the handle of his axe, it was still enough to split the bones. Ostar screamed and his sword fell to the ground.

Sarpa quickly closed the distance between them. Time seemed to slow down for Ostar; his mind gave way to fear, and for a brief moment he was able to do nothing but pray that the god Baat or his ancestors to not let him die that way… but it was all in vain. The next instant, his head was spinning in the air and he fell to the dusty arena floor along with his decapitated body.

Sarpa breathed deeply for a few moments, trying to recover his strength. His body after such a fight was very weakened, although the runes helped him recover quickly. However, despite the effort, he rose in all his height and he lifted the severed head of his rival. "I WON!" he shouted with all the strength in his lungs.

The whole army broke into whoops and exclamations of joy. Almost everyone had hoped for his victory from the start. Sarpa stood still enjoying the triumph while the cry: "SARPA! SARPA! SARPA!" echoed throughout the camp.

Sarpa felt filled with pride. Now that his last opponent had been eliminated, he was the strongest of all the ogre people. Furthermore, he had obtained the full support of the army. Even though he still couldn't proclaim himself king, since he had to follow Haku's plan, it was basically like he already was. And it was truly a wonderful feeling to be at the top of the social pyramid.

Very soon, the soldiers came and lifted him up, carrying him in triumph. The lifeless body of Ostar was thrown away as was the custom to do with the losers, while instead Sarpa was carried throughout the camp. Even Ostar's old soldiers joined the procession. As was the custom, they would have feasted and celebrate all day long.

As Sarpa reveled in his triumph, two silvery creatures watched him from a distance, hidden among the trees. They were Rhaegal and Haku. "It seems that everything went according to plan" the first one said.

Haku nodded. "Yes. Now our ally has basically everything he needs to be proclaimed king. Only the grand finale is missing"

"I assume this 'grand finale' is the variation of the plan you hinted at a few days ago" Rhaegal said, referring to what Haku had said when they realized that casualties from the last battle had been too few.

"Exactly" Haku responded. "In the original plan, Sarpa should have proclaimed himself king at this point, and we would have completed our part of the bargain. This declaration of his would have created quite a few problems for him... but ultimately that didn't concern us. However, since we still need some supplies, we will add a glorious final battle to our plan". Naturally, Haku wouldn't have revealed that he had actually foreseen that outcome all along and was planning something even bigger in order to know if the gods were a real danger.

"Sarpa will do as you tell him?" Rhaegal asked.

"I don't see why he shouldn't. This battle is exactly what he needs to definitely become king and hold a strong position for many years to come" Haku replied. "After all, anything can happen in a battle... including the death of someone's opponents"

Rhaegal chuckled. "The position of king for Sarpa, a lot of food for us. I've always liked your plans, brother"

"Of course you like them, they're designed by me" Haku laughed. Then the two dragons activated the rune of invisibility and disappeared.