Chapter 121: The Man Who Would Not Stay Down
Arthur walked out into the main training yard shortly after breakfast, wearing his normal combat equipment.
Whisperwind was in his hand, but the quiver at his back held blunt training arrows. His Necrotic Dagger remained in his storage ring; a blunted steel practice dagger hung at his hip instead.
Gareth was already waiting near the center of the wide, open-air yard. He wore ordinary, loose training clothes rather than the heavy armor Arthur had expected.
Emily, Adrian, Kael, and several senior students from the family dojo stood around the edges of the yard. Kael had clearly told considerably more people than necessary.
Seraphina watched from the shaded side of the yard, a cup of tea resting in her hands. When Gareth rolled his shoulders, she raised the cup slightly.
"Remember, Gareth. You are testing him, not breaking him."
Arthur noticed the small crowd as he stepped onto the mat.
"I thought this was an evaluation," Arthur noted.
Kael answered from the sidelines. "It is. We are evaluating whether you survive."
Emily elbowed her brother hard in the ribs.
Gareth stepped forward, ignoring his children entirely. "There are no complicated rules," he told Arthur, his voice carrying easily across the yard. "Fight the way you normally fight. I will stop when I have seen enough."
Arthur looked at Gareth’s empty hands. "Do you intend to use a weapon?"
Gareth raised his large, calloused hands. "I already brought two."
One of the senior students struck the yard bell.
Arthur did not wait for Gareth to make the first move. He raised Whisperwind and fired three blunt arrows in rapid succession, aiming for Gareth’s shoulders, upper legs, and leading foot.
Gareth did not charge blindly into the volley. He moved through the incoming shots using tight, compact steps, only bothering to knock aside the arrows he couldn’t completely avoid.
Arthur circled the yard, breaking his firing rhythm and planting low shots in Gareth’s path. Whenever Gareth angled him toward a wall, Arthur shifted before the route closed and forced him back toward the centre.
Adrian’s gaze followed Gareth’s feet.
"He isn’t just retreating," Adrian said. "Every arrow is deciding where Father steps next."
Kael, however, quickly grew impatient with the slow, methodical approach. "Why hasn’t Father simply rushed him?"
"Because that is exactly what Arthur is waiting for," Emily told him, her eyes tracking the movement.
Gareth eventually committed. He shifted his weight, absorbed a blunt arrow against his forearm without slowing down, and exploded forward in a sudden, violent burst of speed.
Gareth’s hand was almost within reach when Arthur triggered Shadow Step.
He disappeared entirely from Gareth’s front and reappeared directly behind him, already drawing Whisperwind back to his ear. Arthur fired at Gareth’s massive, unprotected back from close range.
Gareth twisted sharply, his reflexes saving him from a clean hit, but the blunt arrow still struck his heavy shoulder with a loud crack.
Surprised shouts broke out around the yard. Kael threw both hands into the air as though Arthur had already won.
Gareth stopped and glanced at the red mark forming across the edge of his shoulder before turning toward Arthur.
He wasn’t angry. He looked distinctly pleased.
"Good."
Gareth rolled the struck shoulder once and advanced again. This time, he stopped following Arthur directly. He cut across the routes Arthur had been using, steadily driving him toward the far wall.
Arthur raised Whisperwind to fire another suppressing arrow, but Gareth slapped the bow aside with brutal force directly in the middle of the draw.
The heavy impact didn’t break the enchanted wood, but it ruined Arthur’s grip entirely, sending the bow clattering across the mat.
Arthur drew the practice dagger as Gareth reached for his collar. He snapped the flat of the blade across Gareth’s wrist, kicked at his leading knee, and slipped sideways before the larger man could close his hand.
Gareth caught Arthur’s wrist on his next attempt.
Instead of pulling away, Arthur turned with the grip—the same escape Morwenna had drilled into him until both forearms were bruised. His wrist slipped through the opening before Gareth could secure it.
Emily straightened at the edge of the mat.
"He actually learned it."
Gareth’s grin widened.
Gareth closed the gap once more, but Arthur drove the flat of the practice dagger into his ribs.
Gareth took the hit and stepped straight through it.
His hand clamped around Arthur’s forearm. Arthur began the escape Morwenna had taught him, but Gareth shifted the grip halfway through and buried a controlled fist in his stomach.
Air burst from Arthur’s lungs.
Gareth released him. Arthur stumbled backward, gasping, but stayed upright.
Gareth gestured for him to continue.
Arthur broke away long enough to scoop Whisperwind from the mat, but his breathing had already become ragged and uneven.
Arthur triggered Shadow Step to escape the next body shot.
Gareth turned before Arthur had fully reappeared and slammed a forearm across his ribs. Instead of falling, Arthur used the impact to spin away, drawing the dagger mid-turn and striking Gareth’s forearm before the larger man finally caught him securely around the torso.
Emily muttered under her breath. "That is what I warned him about."
Gareth lifted Arthur clean off the ground and threw him heavily onto the training mat.
The heavy impact knocked the remaining breath from Arthur’s lungs, leaving him completely stunned, staring up at the bright morning sky.
"Is it finished?" Kael asked, leaning forward.
Before Gareth could answer, Arthur pushed himself up.
Gareth lowered his hands and stepped back.
Arthur rolled onto one knee and raised the dagger again.
His breathing was ragged, and pain pulsed through his ribs with every movement, but he forced himself upright and advanced.
He let his injured side dip as though his balance had failed, then cut low for Gareth’s knee. Gareth shifted away, and Arthur immediately hooked the dagger behind his ankle.
Gareth stepped over the attempt, but the pleased smile returned to his face.
He struck Arthur once more, caught his shoulder, and forced him onto one knee.
Arthur tightened his grip and tried to stand.
Gareth placed a heavy hand flat on Arthur’s shoulder, stopping him completely.
"Enough."
Arthur gasped for breath, refusing to drop the blade. "Did I pass?"
Gareth glanced at the red mark on his shoulder and the fresh welts across his arms and ribs.
"You are irritating, difficult to catch, and you keep fighting after everything goes wrong," Gareth said.
Arthur waited.
"The main dojo will sponsor you."
Kael complained from the edge of the mat. "You made the announcement sound like an insult."
"Those were compliments," Gareth answered simply.
Seraphina stood up from her chair, ordered the gathering of students to disperse, and walked over to her husband. "You have bruised the guest enough for one morning."
"He is fine," Gareth insisted, though he looked entirely satisfied.
Arthur attempted to agree, took one step toward his bow, and nearly folded in half when the sharp pain finally reached his ribs.
Emily appeared beside him instantly, catching his arm and throwing it over her shoulder to steady him.
"I will take him back to the guest wing and check the injuries," Emily told her family, her voice tight.
"I can help carry him," Kael offered.
"No." Emily tightened her hold on Arthur. "I have him."
Adrian glanced between them but said nothing.
Nessa met them inside the cool entrance hall and immediately offered to send for the household healer.
Emily carefully pressed along Arthur’s side. He winced, but his breathing remained steady.
"Nothing obviously broken," she said. "I’ll call if the pain or his breathing gets worse."
Nessa nodded and handed Emily a stack of clean towels, a cold alchemical compress, and a tin of healing salve.
"Use the compress before the salve," Nessa instructed. "I will tell the healer to remain nearby."
Inside Arthur’s quiet guest room, Emily helped him remove his training shirt and made him lie back against the pillows.
She held the cold compress against the worst bruising along his ribs and stomach until the sharp ache began to dull. Only then did she open the tin and work the healing salve carefully across his shoulder, back, and side.
When she reached the dark bruise beneath his ribs, her fingers pressed harder than necessary.
Arthur hissed. "He held back."
Her fingers pressed harder.
"That does not mean I have to like it."
"You’re worrying."
"I am treating the damage my father caused," Emily said. "He used the man I brought home as a training dummy."
Arthur’s eyebrows rose.
"The man you brought home?"
Emily realised what she had said.
Rather than answer, she closed the tin of salve, pushed Arthur back against the mattress, and dropped to her knees between his legs.
Arthur’s amusement faded when she reached for his trousers.
Emily looked up at him.
"Stay still."
She pulled down his zipper, slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear, and freed his thick erection. His cock sprang heavily into her hand, already hard from having her kneeling so close.
Emily wrapped her fingers around the shaft and gave it several firm strokes.
Arthur’s breathing changed immediately. Emily watched his reaction as her hand began moving slowly along his shaft.
Her thumb passed over the swollen head, spreading the bead of moisture gathering there before her hand slid down again.
Then she leaned forward and closed her lips around him.
Arthur’s fingers tightened against the bedsheet.
Emily’s warm tongue swept beneath the sensitive ridge before circling the head. She drew back just enough to look at him, then took him deeper.
Her lips stretched around his thickness as her head began moving in a steady rhythm. Each time she pulled back, her tongue remained pressed against the underside of his shaft. Each time she descended, she swallowed another inch until the head pushed toward the back of her throat.
Wet, sloppy sounds filled the quiet room.
Arthur reached down and threaded his fingers through her short hair. Emily’s brown eyes lifted toward him without breaking her rhythm.
Her hand stroked the length her mouth could not take, twisting slightly whenever her lips reached the head. Her other hand slipped between his thighs, cupping his balls and rolling them firmly against her palm.
Arthur groaned and instinctively thrust upward.
Pain tore sharply through his bruised ribs.
His groan broke into a hiss as his body dropped back against the mattress.
Emily stopped.
She did not pull him from her mouth. With his cock still buried between her lips, she tilted her head and glared up at him.
Her muffled warning was barely understandable.
Arthur gave a breathless laugh. Even that small movement hurt.
"I know. Don’t move."
Emily narrowed her eyes.
One hand pressed his thigh firmly into the mattress. Then she began again.
Her mouth worked faster, lips sliding wetly along his shaft while her fist pumped the base in time with each downward stroke. Whenever his hips twitched, her fingers tightened against his thigh and held him still.
Arthur watched her cheeks hollow around him. Saliva gathered at the corners of her lips and ran in a thin line down his shaft, making every movement wetter.
Arthur’s breathing grew rougher. His fingers tightened in her hair, careful not to force her head despite the pressure building rapidly inside him.
"Emily..."
Her eyes rose toward him again.
"I’m close."
She increased the pace.
Her tongue pressed hard beneath the head while her hand stroked him without pause. Arthur’s abdomen tightened, sending another painful pull through his ribs, but this time he forced his hips to remain against the mattress.
At the last moment, Emily pulled her mouth away.
Arthur groaned harshly as the pressure broke.
His cock jerked in her hand, shooting thick ropes of cum across her cheek and face. One streak landed beneath her eye while another spread across the bridge of her nose.
Emily remained kneeling between his legs, breathing heavily, her hand still wrapped around his pulsing shaft.
She slowly blinked.
Then she looked up at Arthur through the mess with a flat, deeply unamused glare.
Arthur pressed his lips together.
The smile still escaped.
Emily reached for one of the clean towels Nessa had provided and wiped her face.
"Do not become smug."
A sharp knock suddenly sounded at the heavy wooden door.
"Registration closes this evening," Kael called from the corridor outside. "Is he still alive in there?"
Emily glared at the door, grabbed the discarded cold compress, and threw it hard against the wood.
Arthur leaned his head back against the pillows, attempting to catch his breath, and answered loudly enough to be heard.
"Alive enough to compete."