The second day began louder than the first.

The ground was cleared out this time and the ropes were tied creating a circular ring. Today’s matches weren’t like the other day’s, these matches would carry more thrill, with the chance of things getting rough.

Eric had asked the guards of the Castermere family and the craftsmen of both towns to help in advance and prepare the weapons for the duels today, and had their edges dulled so that no one actually ended up getting mortally wounded.

Enough to feel real, but not enough to cause harm.

Eric stepped into the center of the ring, turning slowly as he took in the crowd that had gathered in a full circle around him. There was no space left now- only faces, eager and expectant.

"Be prepared," he called out, raising his voice just enough to carry, "for the most awaited event!"

The response was immediate.

Cheers rose, loud and unrestrained, cutting through the open air as people leaned forward, some already calling out names, others clapping in anticipation.

Eric grinned.

"The first event of the day," he continued, letting the moment build just a little longer, "is the one-on-one duel!"

The ground seemed to erupt.

"That’s more like it!"

"Finally!"

"Don’t cry when you lose!"

Eric laughed, clapping his hands once.

"Try not to get too carried away, all right?"

"That depends on them!"

"You say that like you won’t be the first to fall!"

Laughter followed, rolling easily through the crowd, and Eric shook his head before gesturing toward the ring.

"The first contenders-step in!"

Two men entered, each grabbing a sword before taking their positions. There was no ceremony beyond that, no formal introduction, only a brief nod between them before they moved.

The first clash rang out sharp and clean.

The crowd reacted instantly, voices rising with each strike, each block, each misstep. It wasn’t perfect- nothing like trained knights, but it didn’t need to be.

The bout ended quickly, one man losing his footing just long enough for the other to press him down and disarm him.

Cheers followed.

Then the next pair stepped in.

And the next.

The rhythm built steadily.

Matches grew longer, sharper, more confident as the participants found their footing. What began as scattered enthusiasm turned into something more focused, more deliberate. Strikes became cleaner, movements more controlled, and the crowd, once laughing freely, now reacted with genuine investment.

"I wanna fight too!"

"Me too! Me too!"

The twins shouted from Eric’s sides but he simply patted their heads.

"Maybe when you’re older, kids. As for now, please help me, hm?"

The twins pouted but didn’t push it as they watched Reggie step into the ring.

He chose a sword for himself, testing its weight before heading towards the center of the ring.

In both towns, he was considered the strongest and infamous fighter.

A few whistles responded from his supporters.

"About time!"

"Show them who’s the boss, Reggie!"

Reggie rolled his shoulders and faced his first opponent, a middle-aged man who also wielded a sword.

The match began and then also swiftly ended.

Reggie’s movements were quick, controlled, and far more precise than most who had stepped in before him. He didn’t waste effort, didn’t swing wildly. Every motion had intent behind it, every step measured.

His opponent lasted longer than most, but not long enough.

The second followed.

Then the third.

By the fourth, the murmurs had begun.

"He’s good..."

"No, he’s better than that."

Reggie stood at the center of the ring once more, breathing slightly heavier now, strands of hair sticking to his forehead, but his stance remained steady. There was a quiet confidence in the way he held himself, one that hadn’t been there before.

"Anyone else?" Eric called out, glancing around.

There was a pause, the men glanced at each other, wondering if anyone would step forward until there was a movement from the other side and the eyes turned only to widen.

Lysanne stepped into the ring.

"What is she doing?"

"She’s never won against Reggie even once!"

"She’ll hit the dirt faster than others."

"Archery is one thing, this is a different thing."

Reggie also looked at Lysanne and his grip slightly tightened on his sword’s hilt. He watched as she walked over to the weapons stand and chose her weapon.

Lysanne picked up the least expected weapon, a spear.

"A spear?"

"Is she serious?"

Lysanne tested its weight and balance and a small smile appeared on her face. She glanced once at Drac who stood at the edge of the ring with his arms crossed. She met his eyes and he gave a slight nod.

She then turned and made her way to the center of the ring, standing a few paces away facing Reggie.

Lysanne and Reggie stood facing each other across the ring, the space between them settling into a quiet tension that drew the crowd’s full attention.

Reggie adjusted his grip on the sword while Lysanne appeared calm and unreadable.

In all their past fights, they had both wielded swords and Lysanne had lost every single time. Back then, she was simply going in with brute force but this time, she had technique and guidance of a mentor.

For a brief moment, neither moved.

Then Reggie stepped in first.

He closed the distance quickly, knowing better than to let her dictate the range. His blade came in low, testing, but Lysanne intercepted it cleanly, the spear shifting with a controlled motion that redirected his strike without effort.

He pressed again, faster this time.

Their weapons clashed more sharply, the rhythm picking up as he tried to break past her reach. Each attempt was met with the same measured response. The spear kept him at bay, forcing him to adjust, to circle, to look for an opening that didn’t come easily.

A murmur spread through the crowd.

"She’s still going!"

"Have his skills rusted or something?"

Reggie exhaled and changed his approach.

He feinted, then pushed forward from the opposite side, slipping past her guard just enough to force her back. For a brief moment, he had closed the distance.

But Lysanne recovered just as quickly.

The spear shifted in her hands, the butt striking lightly against his wrist to break his momentum before the tip swung back, forcing him to retreat again.

The exchange grew sharper after that.

This time, Lysanne moved first.

While her strikes grew more swift she recalled Drac’s words.

"If your opponent can read your moves, you’ll lose. Stay fast. Use your reach. Don’t give them time to counter."

True to his words, Lysanne’s attacks were so fast that they overwhelmed Reggie, forcing him back, leaving no room to adjust his footing or even think of his next attack. He blocked, countered and tried to break out of her rhythm but she wasn’t letting him.

Then, in a split second, his footing slipped and Lysanne had her opening and she went for it.

The spear twisted, deflecting his blade just enough for his grip to break and the sword flew away from his hand.

For a moment, everything stilled.

Then the crowd burst into noise.

"She won!"

"That was clean!"

Lysanne blinked, the realization settling in, and then her composure broke entirely. A bright smile spread across her face as she lowered the spear and turned, running straight out of the ring.

The people around Drac stood in shock as she came running straight towards him and threw her arms and feet around him with a loud squeal.

"I won! I finally won! It worked!" She shouted.

Drac froze, one hand hovering awkwardly in the air before he managed, after a pause he spoke.

"... Congratulations."

Lysanne who clung to him like monkey felt a particular kind of glare on her and lifted her head to see her mother glaring daggers at her while her father looked between the two of them anxiously.

Only then did she realise what she was doing, she quickly jumped down and apologised to Drac profusely.

Eric who had been watching silently, smirked, "My ship is finally sailing."

"What ship?" The twins asked and Eric simply smiled.

The crowd who witnessed it all laughed and teased Lysanne while Reggie bent to pick up his sword, exhaling quietly. When he looked up, he looked at Lysanne whose face was flushed and when their eyes met, he gave her a small smile and a nod.

In the trees, the guards assigned by Ocean for Eric were all in a different kind of chaos as they stared at the crowd that were enjoying with jealousy and longing.

"Ah! I wanna go too!"

"Leader, can we?!"

"We will be in a disguise- they won’t know!"

Kiro, their leader who was also watching everything with a carefully maintained stoic expression shook his head firmly.

"No, we’re on a duty here."

The rest grumbled and whined while the crowd in the open enjoyed.

The one-on-one duels soon gave way to the two-on-two matches.

The rules remained unchanged, so there was no need for further explanation. At Eric’s signal, the crowd shifted once more, people turning to one another, calling out names, forming pairs with an ease that hadn’t existed just a day ago.

"You’re with me."

"Don’t drag me down."

"As if you won’t do that yourself."

The banter carried lightly as the first pairs stepped into the ring. While the individual duels had relied on personal skill, these demanded awareness of another- timing, positioning, and trust.

At first, it showed in the clumsiness. Partners crossed paths, strikes overlapped, and more than once, someone nearly struck their own teammate.

The crowd laughed, but not unkindly.

"Watch your side!"

"That’s your partner!"

"I know that!"

But slowly, the rhythm began to settle.

Voices turned into calls instead of complaints. Movements aligned, if not perfectly, then well enough to hold ground. One pair managed a clean disarm through coordination alone, drawing a louder cheer than any individual victory had the day before.

Another match stretched longer than expected, both sides refusing to yield, their footing slipping slightly in the softened earth before recovering again. When it ended, both pairs were laughing, one offering a hand to pull the other up without hesitation.

It continued like that, the rhythm settling further with each match.

Then, almost inevitably, attention drifted toward Drac.

"You- pair with me."

"No, with me!"

"I said it first!"

Drac didn’t respond. He stood as he always did, unmoved by the noise around him, until he simply stepped forward and stopped beside Reggie, wordlessly making his choice.

Reggie blinked, caught off guard. "Me?"

Drac gave a small nod.

There was a brief pause before Reggie exhaled and stepped beside him.

"... Alright."

A few murmurs rose from the crowd, surprised but intrigued.

On the other side, Eric rolled his shoulders before glancing toward Lysanne. "Shall we?"

She hesitated only for a moment before nodding, stepping forward to stand beside him.

With the pairs decided, the matches began.

The difference from the earlier duels was immediate. What had once been individual skill now depended on coordination, and at first, it showed. Movements overlapped, partners stepped into each other’s space, attacks mistimed by a fraction of a second.

But it didn’t take long to adjust.

Voices grew clearer, calls sharper, movements more deliberate. What began as scattered attempts slowly turned into something more cohesive, each pair finding its rhythm as they learned to move with someone else rather than against them.

By the time Eric and Lysanne stepped into the ring opposite Drac and Reggie, the energy had risen once more.

Reggie stood more confidently now, his earlier hesitation gone, while Drac remained as composed as ever, his presence alone enough to steady their side. Across from them, Eric and Lysanne exchanged a brief glance before settling into position.

The clash that followed was quick and layered, neither side holding back, yet neither pushing too far. Reggie pressed forward where he could, Drac controlling the pace with minimal movement, while Eric and Lysanne worked to keep in step, adjusting to each other with surprising ease.

It wasn’t flawless.

But it worked.

The match stretched longer than most expected, drawing reactions from the crowd with every exchange, every narrow recovery, every moment where it seemed one side might break through.

In the end, there was no clean finish, no decisive blow. Both the sides had lost their partners, Reggie and Lysanne were too out of breath to continue, so, Eric called a draw.

No one seemed to mind.

By the time the two-on-two matches came to an end, the sun had begun its slow descent, the golden light stretching long across the grounds. The energy, however, had not faded. If anything, it had settled into something steadier, less explosive than before, but warmer, fuller.

Eric stepped forward once more, glancing at the people who still lingered near the ring, some catching their breath, others already recounting their matches with exaggerated confidence.

"Alright," he called out, clapping his hands once to gather their attention. "One last event before we call it a day."

A few groans rose, followed quickly by laughter.

"Already tired?"

"Speak for yourself!"

Eric’s smile widened slightly as he gestured toward the far end of the grounds, where a thick rope had already been laid out.

"Tug of war."

That was all it took.

The reaction was immediate.

"Oh, now this is good-"

"Move aside, we’re winning this one!"

"Not with you on the team!"

People began moving before Eric could say anything further, some already grabbing at the rope, others arguing loudly over who should stand where.

This time, no one waited for instructions as the teams formed on their own.

Eric and Drac stood to the side, watching as people sorted themselves- stronger ones moving toward the ends, lighter ones filling the middle, voices overlapping as they tried to balance things out.

"Too many on that side!"

"Then take two from there!"

"Not him- he’s useless!"

"I heard that!"

"So what?!"

Laughter followed, easy and unrestrained.

When the teams finally settled, the rope tightened between them, feet digging into the earth, hands gripping firm.

"Ready?" someone shouted.

"Pull!"

The line snapped taut.

For a moment, nothing moved.

Then it shifted.

Slowly at first, then with growing force as both sides leaned back, straining, shouting over one another.

"Pull properly!"

"I am pulling!"

"You’re slipping!"

"So are you!"

The ground gave way beneath their feet, mud loosening just enough to betray them. One man lost his footing, dragging two others down with him, only for the rest to scramble and recover in a burst of laughter.

The rope lurched the other way.

"Now- now!"

"Don’t let go!"

"I’m not letting go!"

The line bent, straightened, then bent again, the struggle turning uneven as people shifted, adjusted, compensated without thinking.

And somewhere in the chaos, someone started laughing, and soon others followed.

The shouting didn’t stop, but it changed, losing its edge, turning into something lighter, almost playful.

When the end finally came, it did not arrive with a clean victory.

It ended in a collapse.

Bodies stumbled, balance broke, and in the next instant, both sides went down in a tangled heap, the rope slack between them.

For a heartbeat, there was silence.

Then the laughter came, loud and unrestrained, echoing across the grounds as people pushed themselves up, brushing dirt from their clothes, helping one another to their feet without a second thought.

No one asked who had won.

No one cared.

Eric watched it all from where he stood, his gaze moving across the crowd- the same people who, not long ago, had stood divided by suspicion and resentment.

Now they stood together, bickering, laughing and having clearly moved past their earlier hostility.

Beside Eric, Drac remained silent, his attention fixed on the same scene.

"You were right." Eric said quietly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I didn’t need Master’s approach, I just had to think of my own way."

Drac gave him a small smile and Eric added, "Besides, I also think we will need to arrange for another marriage along with the ones Master has already planned after the Trials."

Drac’s eyebrows twitched. After a few seconds, the tips of his ears grew red and Eric’s jaw nearly went slack. His friend, whom he always thought was so helplessly dense in romance had actually understood that.

Eric patted his back, wiping away his imaginary tears, "Oh, my friend, you’re finally growing up."

"Shut it." Drac muttered but it only made Eric laugh loudly.

The sun dipped lower, the light softening further as the day drew to a close. Yet, nobody rushed to leave. They all lingered, talking, laughing, holding onto something that, for the first time in a while no longer made them fight.

At the edge of it all, Eric stood watching with a smile, knowing that this was his final memory of Castermere. This was his last evening here and his deeds had ultimately taught him more than he expected and also had given this place something that it had long been missing.