Tyme watched his mentor carefully, studying every step he took as the two circled each other, both in different stances. His mentor held his gunblade on an angle in front of himself, while Tyme held his own behind him in his right hand, his left hand held forward with the palm open. The pair had been at a stalemate for the last ten minutes, just circling. Tyme knew what this spar meant, either he would be allowed to go out into the world as a real trained mercenary, or he would have to spend another year training even harder than before. He didn't want that, staying here another year would only delay things even more, he had to be free again. This was a fight...for his future! Narrowing his eyes, Tyme ran forward, the tip of the gunblade dragging across the stone floor, making a screeching noise. As his mentor swung his gunblade, Tyme blocked with his own, then pushed it away, placing a hand on the mans shoulder and vaulting over him. The man turned, raising his weapon to block Tyme's own, seeing he had pushed off the wall after the vault. He skidded to a stop a few feet away, "You've improved, Tyme, you're starting to learn how to use your surroundings to your advantage. However, it'll take more than that to gain your freedom. If you cannot beat me, then you do not deserve freedom." he said, charging the boy. Tyme evaded the first swing, then parried the second, finally blocking the third one. The two remained locked together, their gunblades pressing against each other, "Come on, boy! Is this all you have? Seven years of training, and this is all you've got?!" the man said, pushing Tyme back.

He lowered his gunblade and pointed at the boy, "Start taking this seriously! No more holding back, you hear me?! Come at me like you're going to kill me, because if you don't, I'll kill you myself." he said, slowly lifting his gunblade. Tyme stood from where he had been pushed, taking in a deep breath and calming himself, changing his stance. He now held his gunblade like a fencer would hold their rapier, holding his left hand behind him with the palm open, facing the ceiling. He moved quickly, his mentor barely having time to block the first and second strikes, winding up taking a hit from the third one. The man felt blood trickle down his arm, looking at Tyme, who was a few feet away again. "I see you've improved with that stance, good, I think it suits you better. Very well, Tyme, you've made it clear to me that there's nothing more I can teach you. Keeping you here would only hinder your growth." he said, sheathing his gunblade. Tyme sheathed his own and removed the strap, knowing that he would have to return it, "Thank you, master." he said. As the man took the weapon, he grabbed Tyme's shoulder, "Before you leave, I have a gift for you, something that will help you as you travel." he said. He turned to the locked glass case behind him and unlocked it, carefully pulling out a larger, sheathless gunblade, turning back to Tyme and handing it to him. "It was the first gunblade I ever got, back when the technology was still brand new. I want you to take it, Tyme, so it will remind you of who you are when you doubt yourself." he told him. Tyme looked at the weapon before taking it, hoisting it over his shoulder, "Thank you, master, I'll take good care of it. Hopefully we'll see each other again." he said. The man nodded with a smile, watching as the boy walked out of his home, "Good luck, my boy." he said after he was gone. Tyme looked around for awhile, finally deciding to head left, hoping to find someone looking to hire him.