The Sparring

Hector's heart pounded in his chest as his boots thudded against the floor, echoing through the empty corridors of the building. His mind raced to process the unbelievable news he had just heard: the Grand Commander had carried a lady with silver hair to the barracks infirmary.

"Silver hair? I can't think of anyone else but the Ásján princess. Or could it possibly be an elderly woman? But who would it be? Everyone avoids this place," Hector pondered, his thoughts swirling like leaves in a gusty wind. "Ha. I shouldn't overthink this. He must have a plan behind it. The Commander always acts with purpose."

"No, I did not plan this," Caym replied, his voice steady as he calmly flipped through the reports of the scouts in the east.

"What do you mean?" Hector asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Did you just take her out of the palace without the Emperor's orders?"

"Hmm. Yes, I did," Caym replied.

Hector's jaw dropped, the shock and disbelief etched across his face. But seeing Caym's calm demeanor also calmed him. He took a deep breath. "You must already have a plan now. What will we report to the Emperor?"

Caym leaned back to his chair, his face unreadable. "Just as it is. The princess was brought here for immediate healing after collapsing and sustaining injuries," he stated matter-of-factly.

"But... do you think the Emperor will accept this explanation?" Hector's worry was palpable, his concern etched across his face.

Caym's gaze met Hector's, steady and unyielding. "The Emperor's thoughts are not something we can simply guess," he said, leaving a cold air in the room.

"So you are already prepared to accept punishment," Hector thought, his mind racing to grasp the depth of Caym's resolve. He sighed, a mixture of admiration and worry welling within him.

"Of course," Hector said aloud, his voice steady despite the internal turmoil. "Then, I shall go and prepare a written report for the Emperor." He turned on his heel, ready to do his task.

But just as he began to leave, Caym's voice halted him in his tracks.

"Wait," Caym said, his tone unexpectedly softer. He pushed back his chair and stood up, his imposing figure casting a shadow across the room. "How long has it been since we sparred?"

Hector's confusion was evident, his brows furrowing as he attempted to make sense of Caym's unexpected request. "Pardon?" he asked.

"Did I anger him in any way?" Hector wondered, his nerves causing a hesitant smile to creep onto his face. He couldn't fathom the reason behind Caym's sudden desire to spar.

Caym, seemingly impervious to Hector's internal turmoil, waved off his concerns. "Don't overthink it," he said, his tone reassuring as he continued walking towards the door, passing by Hector. "I simply want to spar."

Hector's expression shifted from confusion to mild relief, his tense shoulders relaxing slightly. "Oh, well, if you say so," he replied, attempting to match Caym's nonchalant demeanor. A nervous chuckle escaped him as he added, "Just so you know, I don't want to die today."

"I'll make sure you leave in one piece," Caym replied, his face devoid of any emotion.

Hector couldn't help but grimace. "I could never tell when he is jesting or not," he thought.

The both of them continued their way to the training grounds, their footsteps echoing in the expectant silence that seemed to settle around them.

Upon arriving, the other knights looked at them in surprise, their whispers rippling through the air like a gentle breeze. "Are they gonna fight?" they whispered, curiosity and excitement flickering in their eyes. The knights slowly gathered, forming a half-circle around the sparring area, their anticipation palpable.

Approaching a nearby table adorned with an assortment of weapons, Hector hesitated only momentarily before picking up a bastard sword. "I haven't done this... in... a while," he admitted, his voice trailing off as he cast a challenging glance at Caym. "Oh, aren't you underestimating me, Grand Commander?" he taunted, a smirk forming on his lips.

Caym, unruffled, began to unfasten his armor, the pieces clinking softly as he placed them on the table. He remained composed, wearing only his black shirt and trousers. "I can win with just one hand," he stated, his confidence unwavering, as he too chose a bastard sword.

The weapons in the training ground were intentionally blunt for safety, yet they still held the potential to cause harm, especially in the hands of skilled warriors.

With weapons in hand, the two men assumed their stances, the atmosphere crackling with tension. The watching knights held their breaths, waiting for the clash to begin.

Hector's eyes narrowed as he gripped his bastard sword tightly, his muscles coiled with anticipation. "Are you sure you will not use a long sword?" he inquired, his gaze fixed squarely on Caym.

Caym's lips curled into a subtle smile. "Didn't I say I can win with just one hand?" he replied, his voice steady. With unwavering confidence, he held the sword with only one hand, the steel glinting in the sunlight.

Hector couldn't help but smirk, his confidence matching Caym's. "Here I go," he declared, his words barely a whisper before the clash of steel against steel filled the air.

Their swords met in a symphony of ringing echoes, a dance of calculated strikes and parries. Hector was swift, his movements fluid as he aimed to outmaneuver his opponent. Each swing of his sword was like lightning, striking with precision and speed. Caym, on the other hand, relied on his strength, his blows carrying immense power as he deflected Hector's attacks with calculated ease.

The intensity of their duel escalated, their swords clashing in a series of rapid exchanges. Hector's agility allowed him to dart in and out, his strikes landing with impressive accuracy. Meanwhile, Caym's sheer force pushed Hector back, his relentless assault forcing Hector to employ all his defensive skills.

Minutes passed in a blur as they continued their relentless battle. Both fighters displayed unmatched skill, each anticipating the other's moves. Hector's breaths came in ragged gasps, the strain evident on his face as he fought to keep up with Caym's unyielding strength.

In the end, neither emerged victorious. Their swords hung in the air, the clash coming to a sudden halt. Hector's chest heaved with exhaustion, his breathing ragged, while Caym stood before him, calm and composed, only a few drop of sweat marring his brows. 

The onlooking knights watched in awe, witnessing a battle of unparalleled skill and determination. As the fight drew to a stalemate, the combatants stepped back, their swords lowering simultaneously. With a mutual nod of respect, they sheathed their swords and extended a hand toward each other.

"Oh, wow, that was amazing!" the crowd erupted, their voices a chorus of admiration and awe.

Caym's lips curled into a genuine smile, breaking his previously stoic expression. "Not bad, Tassis," he remarked, his tone laced with approval.

Hector, still catching his breath, managed a weary grin, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath.

"Ha! I thought you were getting rusty after spending all your time working with papers," he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes. "I still can't win against you, though."

"I don't think you can ever win against me," Caym replied matter-of-factly, his confidence evident in his voice.

Hector scoffed, a mix of annoyance and amusement playing on his features. "Annoying, but I can't even deny," he admitted, his gaze fixed on Caym. "Why did you suddenly ask for a sparring, though?"

Caym merely turned around, his expression unreadable. "I'm heading to the infirmary," he stated calmly as he walked away.

"Huh? Did I actually hurt you or something?" Hector inquired, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Caym raised his right hand dismissively. "Humor yourself," he said before disappearing from sight.

"Why is he suddenly going there, though?" Hector murmured, his fingers absentmindedly tracing his chin in contemplation.

Suddenly, realization struck him like a lightning bolt. "Wait, that's it? I fought for my life for that?" he shouted, his voice echoing with disbelief. "This is so unfair!" His frustration echoed through the training grounds.