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Well, there he was, standing in the middle of the god damn arena with every someone that was someone in this kingdom looking down at him both literally and metaphorically. The eyes of his peers that thought he was just a worthless half-breed and in the eyes of the others that didn't know who he was he was a Kaides so there were definitely expectations both high and low. It couldn't be great entertainment though considering it was a glorified pillow fight. 

Rodin held his 'glaive,' a stick with a sack filled with hay tightly wound with rope on the end. [color=ed1c24]"Stupid kiddy shit,"[/color] muttered Rodin. He twirled it around with a deftness that betrayed the expectations of the peers that closely worked with him. While his body certainly was not as capable as it was when he was older, his experience was still ingrained into his very being. At the very least his efforts had not gone down the drain. 

[b]"Oh? So you can twirl your stick better now?"[/b] A voice called out from behind. Rodin turned to see his [url=https://i.pinimg.com/736x/61/71/c6/6171c607b70a593955bf467989919947.jpg]opponent[/url] with that smirk that was burned into his memory. Michel Beckman of the Noble Class, the blonde pale bastard with always closed eyes. A total kiss ass to the student council and someone that frequently enjoyed kicking him when he was already down. He never really was an actual friend to any of them, but he was a helpful scoundrel so they always kept him around for that reason alone. If there was anyone that he was willing to demote it was going to be this guy. 

[color=ed1c24]"Better than you ever could use yours."[/color] Rodin casually said as he 'stabbed' the pole arm into the ground and leaned forward on it.

Michel's smarmy smirk widened with amusement. [b]"Oh? When did you get a smart mouth? Trying to put on an act?"[/b]

Rodin shrugged in response and nonchalantly said, [color=ed1c24]"No act here. Just unbridled confidence."[/color] His ruby red and icy blue eye sized him up from head to toe. He clicked his tongue dismissively at him and shook his head. [color=ed1c24]"Oh god this is not a fair match up."[/color]

Michel arched his brow and wore a puzzled expression. [b]"Huh? What are you on about? You're the one that requested me."[/b]

A sigh escaped from his lips as he straightened his posture. [color=ed1c24]"You've got it backwards; it's unfair to [i]you[/i]. Now bring your A-Game, little snake. I want the results to be so clear that no one can contest."[/color] He twirled his weapon once more before pointing the hay sack tip at his opponent in a bored manner. 

His opponents smirk darkened into a scowl, gritting his teeth in frustrated annoyance at the half-elf's newfound disrespect. [b]"You damn half breed. I'll remind you where your place is."[/b] He gripped the handle of his wooden sword wrapped in various layers of stuffed cloth.

The nondescript referee of the fight looked at both fighters and began the match with, "Begin!"

Michel was the first to move, his grip on his sword ready to thrust at Rodin except he stopped midway through the action and dashed back. His hands trembled while a bead of cold sweat ran down his confused face as he looked at Rodin's unflinching cold gaze. It was as if he went by instinct to not complete the attack for fear of death. Perplexed murmurs filled the crowd though any experienced fighter knew exactly why Michel stepped back: Rodin's overwhelming killing intent. 

Michel was not fighting Rodin Larion Kaides; he was fighting Rodin the Mercenary. When faced with the killing intent of others on a daily basis and killing in turn, any warrior would develop their killing intent lest they would be overwhelmed by their opponent's own. Any warrior hardened by the battlefield would develop such a keen edge though it was not bloodlust. While easy to confuse, bloodlust is uncontrollable while what Rodin emitted was entirely focused on Michel and so much of it at such a young age. 

A smirk crawled across Rodin's mouth. [color=ed1c24]"Weren't you going to remind this half breed of his place?"[/color] 

[b]"You bastard!"[/b] Michel rushed towards Rodin and performed a horizontal slash with the practice weapon.

In response, Rodin stepped back to maintain his range advantage and swung the polearm towards his opponent's neck. However, Michel was able to quickly return his weapon back to position and then blocked the attack. The attack didn't make a satisfying impact. That was the difference between their physical abilities, but Rodin knew that going into the fight.

[b]"Acting that tough and yet you're still so weak? You really are full of shit!"[/b] Michel shouted with a grin as he swung upon Rodin again though it turned into a dance of them Rodin dodging and Michel pridefully and cockily blocking all of Rodin's weak strikes.

[b]"Keep dancing for me!"[/b] Michel shouted gleefully. 

To the audience it appeared that the half elf was on the back foot. After all, his attacks were far weaker and while some would have expected Rodin to panic, he looked unusually calm. His gaze was only on his opponent, watching Michel's footwork, his posture, the way he breathed, and even the way he held his weapon. 

[i][color=ed1c24]Physically he's got me beat, but that's it.[/color][/i] Yes, Michel had the physical ability, but in terms of actual prowess with the sword he was lackluster to say the least. It made every attack ever easier for Rodin to predict and conserve energy. Rodin did not trust his body yet to be able to block or redirect attacks so he put all of his faith in dodging.

Rodin's eyes were focused on his opponent and once again swung his weapon at him though he was waiting for something. Michel cockily raised his weapon to block the weapon again, lazily expecting another weak blow. [i][color=ed1c24]Now![/color][/i]

Weapons collided, except something was very different; the sound of Rodin's swing had a much deeper, satisfying sound. Michel's eyes widened in surprise and in pain as the impact reverberated throughout his body. [b]"The hell did you do?!"[/b] He spat out right before he saw Rodin take another swing at him and quickly raised his guard once again expecting a heavy blow, but once again it was another of Rodin's weaker strikes. [b]"What?"[/b] He, like others in the audience, looked very confused. 

Rodin gave Michel no time to process what had happened before he spun around and swung at his neck. Michel once again raised his practice blade to block the strike only for another resounding deep [i]POW[/i] to shake him to his core. [b]"You messing with me?!"[/b]

Any magic user or any experienced warrior could tell what Rodin was doing; he was using Urigellr to enhance his physical attacks. Given that Rodin just by holding the weapon made it lighter, he was able to focus all of the telekinetic force at the end of his weapon to increase the speed and force of his attack though he used it on only some of his attacks. What made Rodin's strategy devious was how unpredictable it was. Rodin had conditioned Michel for his typical weaker attacks, but now that the Kaides was slipping in stronger attacks that went against his conditioning Michel was unable to determine how much strength was needed to block his attacks. 

Still to the observer it appeared like the two of them were even. Neither of the boys had yet to land an actual blow on each other, but something was growing more apparent with each passing second; only one of them was getting tired. Michel was panting and dripping with sweat while Rodin still looked as fresh as the moment he stepped on the battlefield. The wasted movements of Michel's mediocre swordsmanship and wasting energy to block weak attacks while barely blocking the more powerful ones ate away at his stamina. 

Rodin lowered his weapon slightly. [color=ed1c24]"Do you yield?"[/color]

Michel looked at him, his typically closed eyes wide open. [b]"What?"[/b] He said in disbelief. 

[color=ed1c24]"Do you yield?"[/color] Rodin repeated. 

His opponents eyes were filled with a sense of vitriolic rage that he never felt before in his life. To concede in front of anyone that actually mattered in the kingdom to [i]him[/i] of all people was not only an insult to his pride, but a complete embarrassment that would ruin him. To be pushed by the half breed was unacceptable. He stood there, quivering with rage as veins pulsed around his head. [b]"I'm gonna kill you!"[/b] 

Rodin chuckled, [color=ed1c24]"Believe me, it'll take a lot more than you to bring me down."[/color] He charged towards Michel and swung down at his exhausted opponent. Michel just barely blocked the overhead strike with another resounding boom. Michel gasped in pain as his muscles screamed and bones. 

[b]"You piece of-!"[/b] Michel gasped from the familiar overwhelming sensation that Rodin gave from the beginning of the match. The killing intent sent a cold shiver down his spine. 

[color=ed1c24]"Do you yield?"[/color] Rodin repeated once more. 

[b]"F-fuck y-"[/b] Before he could finish his sentence, his jaw was forcibly shut as Rodin kneed him in the face with a flying knee. He dropped his weapon and fell onto his hands and knees, blood dripping from his mouth. However, Rodin threw his weapon to the side and grabbed Michel by the hair and pulled him up to his face. 

Rodin once again repeated. [color=ed1c24]"Do you yield?"[/color]

[b]"N-n-no!"[/b] A loud slap hit Michel right across the face, leaving a red tender hand print.  

Rodin's eyes were cold. [color=ed1c24]"Do. You. Yield?"[/color]

[b]"N-n-n"[/b] This time it was the backhand. Rodin then didn't even bother to ask the question again and started to just slap him back and forth with the palm and the back of his hand even until his own hand was raw from hitting him. Eventually it looked like Rodin was just slapping a bruised tomato leaking tomato with weird swollen growths. 

Michel just started sobbing, tears streaming down his red and purple swollen face. [b]"Ith yielth, Ith yielth!"[/b] He fell to the ground when Rodin released his grip on his hair. Michel curled in a fetal position. He was probably traumatized. 

Rodin looked down at him with contempt. [color=ed1c24]"[i]I was seriously pushed around by [b]him?[/b] I could've beaten him when I was a kid in the first place.[/i]"[/color]

This was a very different Rodin than what his peers or even his family knew. What in the world happened?