He snarls and drives his shoulder toward me.
I sidestep and let his own momentum carry him half a step past center. My blade flashes low, slicing across the seam at the back of his knee. Not deep—enough to destabilize.
He stumbles.
The crowd of watching ships does not react audibly, but I feel the shift in attention.
He recovers quickly and spins with a backhand strike aimed at my head.
I duck under it, pain ripping through my ribs as I twist. The world narrows briefly, white light flaring at the edge of vision, but I force myself upright and drive my elbow into his sternum.
He grunts and steps back.
“You rely on endurance,” he says through clenched teeth.
“I rely on inevitability,” I reply.
He charges again, this time feinting high before sweeping low toward my legs. I barely clear the arc in time, but the motion pulls my binding loose. I feel the bandage give.
Warmth spreads beneath my armor.
The metallic scent of my own blood reaches my nose.
He sees it.
“Yield,” he says suddenly. “Before you fall.”
“I will not,” I answer.
He roars and commits fully.
This is the moment he believes will break me.
Instead of retreating, I step inside his strike.
Pain explodes through my side as his blade grazes the already wounded area, slicing shallow but cruel. I ignore it and drive myown blade upward into the joint of his shoulder guard, forcing the metal apart.
He gasps.
I pivot again, using the opening to wrench his arm downward and slam my knee into the compromised knee joint I marked earlier.
His balance collapses.
I bring the blade to his throat and press until it kisses skin.
“Yield,” I say quietly.
He breathes hard, eyes blazing with humiliation and fury.
For a long second, he hesitates.
Then he exhales sharply.
“Yield.”
The officiator steps forward immediately.
“Challenge resolved,” he declares. “Leadership retained.”
