Chapter 134: The Last Thorne Standing
Emily’s saber cut violently through empty space, and the momentum of her advance carried her a single step farther than she wanted. She turned quickly, trying to recover her guard.
Corwin was already coming back from the new angle.
The blunted competition saber cracked cleanly against Emily’s shoulder before she could bring her weapon across.
The whistle shrieked. Reset.
"She walked straight into that!" Kael complained loudly from the stands.
"You were eating bread while it happened," Arthur pointed out.
"I can multitask."
Down in the ring, Emily reset her stance without arguing with the referee. Her expression tightened as she reset. From the stands, the trap was obvious now. Corwin had yielded the ground she wanted, waited until her pursuit carried her too far, and cut away the moment she committed.
On the next exchange, she stopped chasing every retreat. Sometimes she let Corwin come back toward her. She changed the timing of her saber entries, mixing heavy physical pressure with shorter, testing weapon attacks, occasionally checking her advance completely instead of finishing it.
She scored again a minute later by checking a heavy attack halfway through. Corwin had already begun moving to answer the continuation, leaving his arm exposed when she changed course.
Corwin adjusted just as quickly. When Emily stopped chasing him toward the boundary, he shortened his retreats and stayed closer to the center. Her altered saber rhythm gave him fewer clean openings, so he began attacking during the pauses between her changes instead.
Emily stopped giving him room. She picked a clean moment, stepped hard into his guard, and forced the pace again.
She got close enough that Corwin had to give ground for real this time. For several tense seconds, she looked like she might actually break his defense.
Kael was fully invested now, leaning over the railing. Arthur leaned forward beside him.
Corwin blocked one heavy saber strike, but Emily stayed on him before he could reset. She crowded him with her greater strength and kept the saber moving, forcing him backward through another exchange.
One strike slipped toward Corwin’s shoulder before he barely got his weapon across, turning Emily’s blade aside at the last moment.
Emily had started turning with Corwin’s angle changes much faster, cutting off the new line before he could exploit it. When he shifted sharply to her outside again, she moved with him.
Corwin reversed.
Emily’s weight was already committed to the turn. By the time she tried to recover, his saber was across her upper shoulder.
The whistle shrieked. Match.
Emily stood there, staring at him for a second, her chest heaving.
Corwin lowered his weapon. "Better."
"Don’t sound pleased with yourself," Emily told him.
"I won. I’m allowed a little."
Emily’s grip tightened around her saber. Corwin glanced at the referee standing between them and smiled while she lowered the weapon very deliberately.
Emily came back to the viewing area looking visibly irritated.
Arthur had enough survival instinct not to offer a technical breakdown of the final exchange.
"You almost had him," Arthur said simply.
Emily gave him a sharp look. "Apparently that’s what we tell Thornes today."
Kael protested that his loss was entirely different.
"Both of you lost," Adrian pointed out calmly.
That shut both of them up for approximately three seconds. Arthur leaned over and gave Emily a quick kiss anyway. She accepted it, still annoyed, and turned her attention back toward the mats.
Corwin passed their section of the stands a few minutes later, heading back from the competitor area. He paused, looking at the updated bracket board, then looked at Arthur.
"You actually made it."
"You sound disappointed," Arthur noted.
"Surprised."
"He cheated," Kael announced loudly.
Arthur looked at him.
"I haven’t decided how yet," Kael clarified.
Corwin laughed, shook his head, and left to recover before his evening semifinal against Adrian.
By evening, Arthur had eaten properly, moved around enough to keep his muscles loose, and let the tournament healers’ restorative treatments do their work. His side was still stiff, but the sharp pain from the match was gone.
The arena was much quieter by then. Most casual spectators had already left, though the ringside sections were still filled with people staying for the final rounds.
Adrian fought a much quieter match than Emily had. He rarely gave away his balance, never chased a bad opening, and recovered cleanly after every exchange. Corwin had to work for every opening. There were several resets, both men scored touches, and the bout stretched considerably longer than Emily’s.
"Adrian’s got him," Kael muttered, leaning forward hopefully.
"You said that during my match," Emily reminded him.
"I was supporting you."
"You were eating."
Arthur wisely stayed completely out of it.
Adrian’s defense stayed disciplined even as the match stretched on. Corwin stopped repeating entries entirely. A high attack became a body threat the next time he showed it, and twice he broke away halfway through movements Adrian had already started answering. Adrian kept recovering, but the adjustments came faster and faster until one response finally arrived late.
Corwin slipped the guard and got the decisive touch.
The whistle shrieked.
Corwin Vale advanced to the final.
The main board above the arena updated one final time for the day.
FINAL — Arthur Vance, Thorne Main Dojo vs. Corwin Vale
A murmur ran through the remaining crowd. The unexpected academy guest entrant was now facing one of the clear tournament favorites.
Corwin looked up toward the Thorne section and found Arthur watching. Their eyes met across the arena. Corwin gave him the smallest nod, and Arthur returned it.
The ride back to the compound became noisy before they had even cleared the arena district.
"This is humiliating," Kael complained from the back seat.
"I’m literally representing your dojo," Arthur pointed out.
"That’s what makes it worse."
Emily spent most of the ride staring out the window. Adrian had already moved on to discussing the semifinal, calmly pointing out that Corwin had earned the win cleanly, while Gareth remained quiet in the front seat.
Seraphina was already discussing tomorrow’s departure time. "And nobody is deciding to train until midnight," she added, glancing back toward Kael.
Kael claimed the warning was entirely unfair.
During dinner, several senior dojo members stopped by the table to congratulate Arthur on reaching the final.
"So," one of the instructors joked, "Gareth’s guest eliminated one Thorne and now has to avenge the other two against Corwin tomorrow."
"No pressure, then," Arthur said, reaching for a drink.
"There is considerable pressure," Kael corrected him.
Emily casually stole a piece of meat off Arthur’s plate while Kael enthusiastically started explaining exactly how Arthur should beat Corwin. Arthur pointed out that Kael had lost to Corwin repeatedly. Kael continued explaining anyway, apparently considering his own record beside the point.
After dinner, Arthur returned to the guest wing and found Nessa inside his room, smoothing out the competition clothes she had cleaned and pressed for tomorrow.
The jacket looked perfect, laid out neatly on the chair.
Nessa looked up as he entered, her eyes briefly dropping to the way he was moving. "You’re walking normally."
"Disappointed?" Arthur asked.
"Relieved," Nessa replied smoothly. "Blood is difficult to remove from good linen."
Nessa finished with the jacket but remained beside the chair.
"Guest wing survive the day?" Arthur asked, leaning against the doorframe.
"Barely."
"Then you could have watched."
Nessa smoothed a tiny, invisible wrinkle out of the jacket collar. "I saw enough."
"The win?"
Nessa met his eyes. "Mostly you getting hit."
Arthur smiled and stepped closer.
"You’re staring again," Arthur noted mildly.
"Your bandage is fine," Nessa countered.
"That wasn’t what I meant."
Nessa reached up, caught the front of his shirt, and kissed him.
The kiss was firm and unhurried. Arthur caught her around the waist and pulled her closer.
The second kiss lasted longer. Nessa’s hands moved from his shoulders into his hair, and when Arthur eased back for breath, she followed him and pulled him close again. Arthur slid one arm around her back and kissed her slower this time.
Nessa caught his shirt again and began pulling him toward the bed.
"Careful," she murmured against his mouth when his hip brushed the chair. "I just pressed those clothes."
Arthur glanced toward the jacket. "Your priorities are remarkable."
"Tomorrow morning, you’ll appreciate them," she told him, pulling his shirt free of his trousers.
Her fingers moved with their usual efficiency, though the increasingly uneven rhythm of her breathing ruined the professional effect. They reached the bed almost by accident, still kissing, and Nessa sat back onto the mattress without letting go of his shirt.
Arthur followed her down onto the mattress, and Nessa pulled him back into the kiss before he had fully settled beside her. Her hands slid beneath his open shirt and moved slowly across his skin, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.
Arthur’s hand slid up her thigh, pulling the dark fabric of her uniform skirt higher. She shifted her weight, making it easier for him, her breathing growing uneven as his hand found warm skin. She arched slightly when he kissed down the side of her neck, one hand tightening in his hair as she pulled him closer.
A clock chimed somewhere beyond the guest wing, and Nessa went still beneath him. She checked the time and muttered something distinctly unladylike.
"Rounds?" Arthur guessed.
"Half the guest wing."
Nessa reluctantly pulled herself upright, fixed enough of her uniform to look respectable, then kissed him once more before leaving.
Nearly an hour later, another knock sounded.
Arthur opened the door to find Nessa standing there again, this time carrying absolutely nothing.
"The guest wing survived."
Arthur stepped aside.
"Come in."