To Yuriko’s eyes, the duelists were painfully slow, and after a few moments, it was clear that they weren’t really fighting, but doing a choreographed play. They were good at that, though. Both swordsmen were clad in protective gear—some kind of padded jacket and pants, and a protective headgear with a mask made of wire mesh. Their swords were about thirty to forty inches long, about a thumb in width, and bell guards with a swoop that covered the hands. 

The two of them slashed, parried, and thrust at each other, though neither blade managed to touch their bodies. They didn’t try to cut or stab into their opponent’s arms either. Their stance was sideways and their off-hand hidden behind their bodies or raised behind them for balance. They lunged at each other, blades flickering as they swatted flamboyantly. 

“Duelling,” Yuriko muttered. “If they’re facing more than one opponent, they wouldn’t stand much of a chance.” 

“Well, yeah, it’s fencing after all. It’s an official sport and they only face one opponent at a time.” Scarlett said. 

“They are hyper-focused on duelling in a line,” Yuriko muttered. There was barely any lateral movement, though perhaps it was due to the amount of space accorded to the demonstration. She spotted the club’s booth and approached slowly. There was quite an enthusiastic crowd, but halfway to the booth, she noticed another group with disdainful sneers on their faces. 

The duel lasted for a few more minutes, with one side finally scoring a point through a cut at the other’s helm. It was still choreographed even if it wasn’t blatant. It was obvious in how the other paused for just a microsecond so the winner’s sabre could actually hit him. The display was met with an enthusiastic round of applause, then the club captain, distinguished from the other members through a badge that actually had ‘CAPTAIN’ emblazoned on it. 

The captain was a short woman, whose purple hair was in a pixie cut. She had lively grey eyes and a ready smirk. She had an olive complexion and her bare arms and shoulders showed off her toned physique, and as she stepped towards the duelists, she said in a loud, carrying voice, “Thank you, Jones and Wilbur for that riveting display. I see our fellow swordsmen from the HAMA Club are up to their usual antics! Well, fellows, you want to throw down?” 

The captain of the HAMA Club, a large man who was a head and shoulders taller than the diminutive Fencing Club captain, stepped up and growled, “Ya right! Except ya won’t fight with HAMA rules.”

“What can I say, Richards? Fencing’s the official sport. What you lot’re doing is a hobby.” 

Captain Richards’ eyes narrowed and he returned, “Just because HAMA’s not on the official roster of games for the Intercontinental, doesn’t mean it’s just a hobby. It’s historical for a reason! Our ancestors used the HAMA to fight for their lives and it prominently figured in the Unification Wars.”

“And yet Fencing is its modern successor,” the small captain answered. “There is no one set of rules for HAMA tournaments, unlike fencing, so…”

“Whatever, Hays.” He snorted, then addressed the crowd, “Joining the fencing club means you’ll be drilled to exhaustion and whatever fun or pleasure you derive from playing with swords will dry up from the reality of the situation. If you’re interested in something else, HAMA Club is open to everyone who wants to learn.” He waved, “We’ll have an exhibition match in a few minutes, and unlike Captain Hays, we don’t predetermine the winner.”

“Lies!” Captain Hays yelled, though her undertone was good-natured. She nodded at Richards, and Yuriko realised their outward hostility masked something else. They weren’t connected to her threads so she couldn’t read their emotions easily. Still, she took a pamphlet from the fencing club’s booth, and followed the crowd to HAMA club’s space. 

Historical Astorian Martial Arts was prominently displayed on a banner above the booth. There was a mess of melee weapons laid out on the table, and even more stuck inside a barrel. The ones on the table weren’t sharp or were blunted by attached foam. There was a cleared-out circle with spectators peering over each other’s shoulders, then Captain Richards yelled for the demonstration to begin. 

It was immediately apparent that this exhibition match wasn’t scripted. There was a bit of choreography in that the combatants didn’t try to escape the circle. Both duelists wore protective gear, and each wielded a longsword. They duelled with efficient stances and strikes that were more focused on wrist manoeuvrability than power. 

Their blades whirled around each other, and each match was over in the blink of an eye. They reset immediately, showcasing their moves, but after a while, Yuriko noticed another problem. The HAMA duelists acted as if their armour was nothing. When their blades hit any part of the torso, covered with the padded jerkin or not, they counted it as a win for the striker. Even though if they wielded a real blade and wore the same kind of armour, that kind of hit they considered lethal was anything but that. 

Still, she could see that the HAMA club’s fighters were more in tune with how a real sword fight could go rather than the fencing club’s formalised methods. 

“Thinking of joining either?” Scarlett asked. 

“I am,” Yuriko admitted. 

As if they heard her, the fight, having just ended, caused the captain to raise his longsword and yell out to the crowd, “Anyone want to give it a shot? Come on! It’ll be fun!” 

The crowd of new sophomores, some juniors, and a few freshers looked reluctant, but one eventually walked towards the captain. Yuriko followed behind the young man, though she was tall enough to look over his head. Captain Richards, who was about as tall as Heron, but not quite as muscular, grinned when both of them approached. 

“Well, looks like two players!” His eyes lingered on Yuriko’s body before he snapped up to her face. His ruddy cheeks darkened slightly, but he shook off his embarrassment. “This way, please, let’s get you suited up.” 

“Uhm, are we fighting against each other?” the other volunteer asked, looking a bit nervous. 

Yuriko giggled. “You wouldn’t be a match, I’m afraid.” She added with a teasing tone, “Captain Richards, I’m quite interested in your club, but, hmmm, I’m not quite sure if you’re good enough.” 

Richards blinked and stared at her for a long moment, then guffawed, “Is that so? I guess you’re an experienced swordswoman?” 

“You can say that,” Yuriko said lightly. 

“Hmmm, would you like to duel me?”

“I don’t know your skill level,” Yuriko said, “but it would be a pleasure.”  She glanced at the fencing club captain, who’d followed them here. “Captain Hays, I’m also interested in your fencing club.”

“Oh, a woman of refined taste, then? After you tire of playing with that barbarian, let’s see if you’ll fit right in.”

“Oi!” Richards yelled.

“We’ll see,” Yuriko said with another giggle.

The padded jerkin was loose on her shoulders but was easily adjusted with the straps. The helm also needed adjusting, but more for her hair than anything else. She picked out a longsword and tested its balance. Not bad, but not all that good either. The blade was dull as well. 

By the time she returned to the duelling ring, the other volunteer was already having his match against one of the other club members and was handily getting schooled. Not that the HAMA club swordswoman was mean about it, but the volunteer looked frustrated by the third time he got stabbed in the gut by a sword that whirled around his defences. He was an amateur, no doubt about it, but he was not a complete novice. Just skilled enough to think that he was great without knowing any better. She could see it painted on his face, and by the fifth match, he’d all but given up in frustration. 

“Your turn, Miss?” Captain Richards asked. 

“You don’t recognise her?” Captain Hays asked sardonically. “Miss Lilibeth Lawson, right? You’re that new model and actress?”

“Oh! A celebrity!” Captain Richards said while scratching the back of his head, “Uhm, are you sure about this? You’ve got protective gear, but accidents could happen. We wouldn’t want to bruise your body, or Divines forbid, your face?”

Yuriko smiled gently. “I would consider it a failing of the highest variety if you actually manage to score a point.” 

“Ohhhh!”

She hadn’t been quiet with her challenging words and the crowd reacted appropriately. Captain Richards’ face hardened, then he sighed, while Hays giggled. But her gaze was also sharp. 

“I hope you can back up your words, miss,” Richards eventually said. “Let’s begin.” 

He evidently didn’t take her seriously because his slash was lackluster. Yuriko stepped forward, no faster than what he could manage, and was actually slower than the average of his swordsmen. Her longsword met his, then deflected it offline. With the same motion, she slashed into his torso, hitting hard enough that he winced. 

Silence reigned for a long moment while Richards, Hays, and the other club members stared in stupefaction. 

“Again?” Yuriko asked with a teasing smile as she put her longsword into a low guard. Richards simply growled and lunged, though that turned out to be a feint when Yuriko deflected and riposted. He dodged the tip of her blade by ducking down, and he delivered his own sweeping attack towards her legs. She stepped back smoothly and twisted her wrist, pushed his blade off the line in the process, then struck at his extended arm, he winced at the blow, then grunted when her sword stabbed into his side. 

“You don’t hold back, do you?” he muttered as he stepped back. 

Yuriko raised an eyebrow. “A lesser strike would not have penetrated your armour.” 

Richards stared at her for a long moment, then burst out laughing. “I suppose you’re right. Again?” 

“If you wish.” 

This time, Richards was more cautious in his approach. His technique was adequately proficient, but only to the point that she slowed herself down to four-fifths of his speed. She focused on moving the least amount possible to deflect and counter, and she moved almost as soon as he acted. 

She could see the bewilderment and frustration on his face as whatever he did was swiftly and brutally countered. After a couple more matches, he stepped back and laughed, “I believe I am outmatched. Thank you for participating. I…” He frowned, “Are you serious about joining the club?” 

“Hmmm, perhaps,” Yuriko admitted. “I would like to see how the fencing club works too. Or,” she hummed, “is there a rule that says I cannot join both?”

Richards exchanged glances with Hays, and the other captain said, “Well, the fencing club is also the varsity. There are tryouts and membership isn’t so simple as walking through the door.” 

“You don’t have reserve members?” Yuriko asked. 

“We’ve got enough on the bench to make a line all the way around the building,” Hays snorted. “And don’t think your display is enough. HAMA and fencing have different rules.”

“I see, then do you mind conducting a test now?” 

Hays’s considering gaze lingered on Yuriko, then she chuckled, “I guess not. But are you done with these barbarians?”

“Hmm, not quite. Captain, HAMA isn’t just a one-on-one duel, is it?”

“No, of course not,” Richards replied tersely. 

“Then, perhaps you should send for your second- and third-best warriors.” 

“I…alright.”

Such was the influence of Yuriko’s Mien that she easily got her way. Not that she would harm anyone, but she did enjoy exchanging pointers with mortals as long as she limited her strength below theirs. Perhaps if she trained them in swordwork, they might become good enough that she’d be forced to match their strength. 

She noticed quite a few spectators were filming her matches, so when the other two swordsmen came, she didn’t quite finish them off as quickly as she could have, nor did she make the difference in skill readily apparent to the watchers. After she did that, she went over to the fencing club’s space and did the same thing to all three of their best duelists, and at the end of the day, she was a member of both clubs. 

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep