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Jonacin watched as Davik called up his Shehai. While Jonacin’s was a katana, with a long, one edged blade, Davik’s was a regular, double edged longsword. Jonacin knew that this was going to be a very tough battle, especially as it was to the death and not just first contact. An instructor walked into the centre of the ring, motioning to both combatants to join him. He quickly explained the rules, to them, simply that there was to be no foul play like kicking sand into the face of the opponent, and that no aid was to be given/sought for any reason. He then told them to return to opposite sides of the ring and await his signal to begin. He retreated to just outside the ring, and brought his arms up and then down, signaling the start of the duel.
Davik sprang into action almost before the instructor’s arm had dropped, launching his attack with blistering speed. Jonacin was forced onto a desperate defence, frantically parrying the rain of blows that came towards him. He blocked a slash that would have disemboweled him, but was a split second to slow to block the reverse slash. He leapt backwards, but still felt a sudden burning sensation as Davik’s blade sliced across his chest, ripping open a shallow wound. Davik grinned, thinking that the duel was his, and pressed his attack harder.
Suddenly Jonacin ducked and span aside, slashing his sword towards Davik as he did so. He was rewarded with a grunt of pain, as his blade sliced into the muscle of Davik’s shoulder, but it didn’t cause serious damage. Jonacin grinned as he heard Davik mutter a string of curses and span to attack again. Jonacin began to taunt him, hoping to enrage him. One of the first lessons taught to those at the Hall was to always keep control of their emotions, as an enraged fighter was a stupid one. Davik roared in fury, charging towards Jonacin, his blade raised high. Jonacin’s next maneuver was very risky, but would win him the duel if he pulled it off.
As Davik charged towards him, Jonacin crouched low, waiting for his moment to strike. Davik got closer, and began swinging his blade in a downward arc that would take Jonacin’s head off. A split second before the blow connected, he ducked low, and span aside, slashing with his blade as he did so. Both fighters stopped, and turned to face each other. The entire hall was silent. Suddenly Davik let out a groan, and fell to his knees. A thin red line appeared across his chest, and suddenly blood gushed forth from the wound. Davik collapsed forward onto his face, twitched once, and died, a pool of blood spreading out from beneath his body.
Jonacin’s maneuver had worked, his blow cutting deep into Davik’s chest, cutting both lungs a severing many major veins and arteries. The move was incredibly dangerous, and required impeccable timing or it would backfire and result in the death of the one who tried it. Jonacin remained where he stood, suddenly out of breath. The wound in his chest was beginning to hurt now that adrenaline was wearing off, but Jonacin refused to seek treatment for it yet. He faced the crowd who had gathered to watch the duel, and raised his blade in the customary salute before letting it vanish.