Are Beast Nobles Supposed to Be This Lewd?

A servant appeared on the platform almost immediately.

Mirabelle stepped aside as he began arranging several heavy wooden chairs beneath the stretched fabric canopy.

Three were positioned at the very front, giving Mirabelle, her mother, and the General an unobstructed view of the fighting ring below. Two more were placed slightly behind and to the side for Lucien and Kaelith.

Mirabelle sank gratefully into hers.

The wood was pleasantly cool beneath the shade, and after standing for what felt like far too long, simply taking the weight off her feet felt wonderful.

Below them, the last of the soldiers were settling into the grandstands.

The wooden structures groaned beneath hundreds of large Beastmen. Voices murmured through the ranks, quieter than Mirabelle would have expected from such an enormous gathering.

The occasional laugh carried across the field. Boots scraped against wood. Someone shouted something she couldn’t understand and immediately earned several amused responses.

The atmosphere had changed completely.

Only moments ago, Mirabelle had stood before an army. Now it almost felt like she was attending a sporting event.

A very violent sporting event.

The summer heat still shimmered above the pale sand, carrying with it the dry scent of dust, sweat, leather, and sun-warmed wood.

At the center of the training grounds, two soldiers waited.

One was a fox Beastman.

The other... Mirabelle immediately recognized as a lynx. That alone made her sit a little straighter.

Both males looked up toward the platform.

Waiting.

The fox was leaner than his opponent.

Not smaller, exactly. But built differently.

His muscles were long and compact rather than heavy, his weight resting lightly on the balls of his feet. Reddish-brown ears stood alert atop his head, constantly shifting toward the sounds around him.

Behind him, his thick tail moved slowly from side to side.

The lynx Beastman was broader. His shoulders were heavier, his thighs visibly powerful beneath his training trousers, and the dark tufts at the tips of his ears gave him an expression Mirabelle found strangely familiar. His shorter tail twitched behind him.

Neither carried a weapon.

Of course they didn’t. Their hands were more than sufficient.

Mirabelle could clearly see the claws extending from the fox’s fingertips.

The lynx followed a moment later. Ten curved claws caught the sunlight.

The General leaned forward slightly.

Both soldiers immediately focused on him.

"Begin."

Neither moved.

For perhaps two heartbeats, they simply stared at one another. Then the fox exploded forward. Mirabelle barely had time to register the movement.

He didn’t charge directly.

He darted sideways.

One step.

Two.

Then abruptly changed direction and came at the lynx from an angle. His claws flashed.

The lynx twisted away.

A sharp hiss cut through the air as claws sliced through empty space where his ribs had been a fraction of a second earlier.

The soldiers in the stands reacted immediately.nShouts erupted around the arena.

The fox didn’t stop. That, Mirabelle realized almost instantly, seemed to be his greatest advantage.

Movement.

Constant movement.

He circled.

Feinted left.

Attacked right.

Retreated before the lynx could retaliate.

His tail worked continuously behind him, swinging in the opposite direction whenever his body turned sharply, stabilizing movements that should have sent him skidding across the sand.

The lynx fought completely differently.

He waited.

Watched.

His tufted ears tracked every scrape of the fox’s feet against the sand. His body remained low, knees slightly bent, shoulders loose.

Then the fox lunged again.

And the lynx moved. Fast.

Shockingly fast.

His hind legs drove into the ground with enough force to scatter sand behind him.

Instead of retreating, he sprang directly toward his opponent.

The fox clearly hadn’t expected it. Their bodies collided. A heavy thud echoed across the ring.

Mirabelle winced.

"Oh."

The fox rolled with the impact. Literally.

He twisted in the lynx’s grip, planted one foot against his opponent’s thigh, and used the momentum to throw himself sideways.

His tail snapped outward. He landed on one hand and both feet. For a fraction of a second, he looked almost impossible.

Then he was upright again.

The grandstands erupted. Mirabelle found herself leaning forward.

The lynx attacked this time.

His style was much more direct. Explosive bursts of speed followed by devastating strikes.

Claws swept toward the fox’s shoulder.

The fox ducked. A knee came up.

He twisted aside.

The lynx’s tail jerked sharply as he changed direction in the middle of the movement, helping him recover his balance far faster than Mirabelle expected.

His elbow immediately followed. The fox blocked it with both forearms. The impact still sent him sliding several feet backward through the sand.

A cloud of pale dust rose around his ankles.

Yet he remained standing. And grinned.

Mirabelle’s eyebrows rose.

Apparently, they were enjoying themselves.

The fox shook out one arm. Then disappeared sideways again.

Left.

Right.

Back.

Forward.

He seemed determined to never approach from the direction his opponent expected.

But the lynx’s ears kept following him.

Mirabelle noticed it now. Even when his eyes momentarily lost the fox during one of those rapid turns...

His ears didn’t. They rotated independently, tracking footfalls. Breathing. Movement through the sand.

The fox lunged from behind.

The lynx dropped. A clawed hand passed over his head.

He twisted on one foot, his tail swinging hard in the opposite direction to counterbalance the turn, and swept his leg beneath the fox.

The fox jumped. The lynx had expected that.

He launched upward.

For one incredible moment, both Beastmen were airborne. The lynx caught him around the waist.

They crashed into the sand together.

BOOM.

Dust exploded outward.

Mirabelle jerked back.

The soldiers roared.

For several seconds she couldn’t even see what was happening.

Then a reddish tail appeared through the cloud. Followed by a leg.

Then—

Somehow—

The fox came flying out of the dust.

He hit the ground shoulder-first, rolled twice, dug his claws into the packed sand and stopped himself.

Deep grooves appeared beneath his fingers.

The lynx emerged a heartbeat later.

Both were breathing harder now.

Sweat gleamed across their skin. Sand clung to their arms and shoulders.

Neither appeared particularly interested in slowing down.

The fox wiped blood from a shallow claw mark along his ribs. The lynx flexed one shoulder where several reddish lines had appeared across his skin.

Mirabelle glanced toward the General.

"They’re fairly evenly matched."

"Very."

There was unmistakable satisfaction in his voice.

Below them, the two soldiers began circling again. Mirabelle was beginning to understand why.

The fox possessed the advantage in agility.

He was unpredictable, adaptable, almost impossible to pin down. Every failed attack seemed to flow naturally into another movement.

But the lynx...

The lynx was built for explosive power. Patience followed by sudden, brutal acceleration.

One waited for an opening. The other created them.

One survived by refusing to be where his opponent expected. The other needed only one successful moment to turn the entire fight around.

And neither seemed capable of gaining a decisive advantage.

The fox’s tail swept low behind him.

The lynx’s ears flattened.

Mirabelle felt herself smile.

Then both Beastmen launched themselves forward again.

"Impressive, isn’t it?" the General said, glancing sideways at Mirabelle. "We take great care to incorporate the natural strengths of each Beast lineage into their combat training."

Mirabelle nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes. That’s obvious."

A pleased smile appeared on the boar Beastman’s face.

"However..."

Mirabelle continued watching the fight. The General’s smile faded slightly. His thick eyebrows drew together.

"However?"

"I was wondering why they aren’t using each other’s strength against them."

That caught his attention. The General turned toward her, his focus leaving the fight entirely.

"What exactly do you mean, Young Duchess?"

Mirabelle shifted in her chair to face him.

"I mean their momentum."

She lifted both hands, trying to demonstrate what she meant.

"Look at the lynx. When he attacks, he puts an enormous amount of force into accelerating his entire body forward. The fox avoids that force or tries to block it."

Her gaze returned briefly to the arena.

"But why stop it?"

She moved one hand toward the other, then swept it past instead of allowing them to collide.

"Imagine someone twice my size charges at me.

If I stand in front of him and try to stop him with my own strength, I’ve already made a terrible decision. I’m trying to determine which of us is stronger."

She glanced pointedly at the enormous boar Beastman beside her.

"And I’m probably going to lose."

The General gave a quiet grunt of amusement.

"But I don’t actually have to stop him." Mirabelle extended one hand as though someone were reaching for her wrist. "If he’s already moving toward me, he’s providing the force himself. All I have to do is redirect it."

She pulled her imaginary opponent forward and to the side while turning her own body out of the way.

"I don’t fight his movement. I continue it." Her hands demonstrated the motion again. "I move out of his line of attack, disturb his balance, and guide the force somewhere he didn’t intend it to go."

She pointed toward the fighting ring.

"The faster he moves, the more committed he is to the attack, and the harder it becomes for him to suddenly stop or change direction."

The General’s eyes narrowed.

Mirabelle continued.

"You don’t necessarily need to overpower someone to put them on the ground. Every body has a center of balance. If you disrupt it at the right moment, even someone significantly heavier than you can fall."

She placed one palm over her other wrist and mimicked a turn.

"Joints are useful for that as well. A wrist, an elbow, a shoulder..." She carefully rotated her hands. "You don’t need enough strength to control an entire Beastman if you can control one part of his body and force the rest to follow."