Will of the Battlefield

The semifinals had arrived. Only four aspirants remained standing.

Thousands had entered, but only four remained.

The atmosphere inside the arena felt different now, much heavier.

Every spectator understood they were witnessing the future elite of the continent.

Every academy principal watched closely.

Every instructor took notes.

The candidates who had already been eliminated remained seated in the stands.

Nobody wanted to miss what came next.

The referee stepped into the center of the battlefield.

His voice echoed across the arena. "First semifinal."

He pointed. "Thane."

The crowd immediately erupted. The giant slowly rose from his seat.

His entire body protested. Every wound from Donovan remained. Every muscle ached.

The ointments had helped. Rest and food had helped.

But none of that could completely erase the punishment he had received.

Yet despite the pain, the giant smiled.

Because he was still here, standing and fighting.

The crowd roared as he entered the arena.

Across from him stood his opponent.

A young man carrying a spear. Bod was his name.

One of Krynova’s elite aspirants.

Unlike Etno, Bod was easygoing.

Unlike Donovan, he lacked arrogance.

Unlike Thane, he appeared thoughtful before acting.

The spear user looked at the giant.

Then looked toward the waiting area, specifically at Etno.

A small smile appeared on his face.

The swordsman immediately narrowed his eyes. That smile never meant anything good.

Meanwhile, Thane planted the large wooden axe beside him. "Hello."

Bod chuckled. "Hello."

The referee prepared to begin.

Then something unexpected happened.

Bod casually dropped his spear.

The wooden weapon hit the ground. The entire arena fell silent, and the referee blinked.

The judges were confused.

Even Thane was confused. No one believed Krynovans would surrender.

"What are you doing?" Thane asked.

Bod ignored the question. Instead, he stepped forward.

Close enough that only Thane could clearly hear him.

Then he spoke. "Etno never used his family’s techniques on you."

The giant frowned. "What?"

The words instantly caught his attention.

Bod continued. "What he showed you during your team battle wasn’t his family’s sword art."

Thane’s eyes widened. "It wasn’t?"

"No." The spear user smiled. "That was sword intent."

The giant stared. The term meant absolutely nothing to him.

Bod immediately noticed. "Of course you don’t know what that means."

"I don’t."

"Thought so."

The giant scratched his head. "What is sword intent?"

The spear user glanced toward Etno. The swordsman was now visibly annoyed.

Bod looked back toward Thane.

Then pointed toward the axe resting beside him. "Every weapon has intent."

The giant looked at the axe.

Then looked back, still confused.

Bod sighed. "Imagine swinging that axe."

Thane nodded. "Okay."

"Imagine exactly how it would strike."

"Okay."

"Imagine exactly where it lands."

"Okay."

"Imagine exactly how it cuts."

The giant slowly began understanding, only a little.

Bod continued. "A true warrior’s intent can become so sharp that others feel it."

He pointed toward his chest.

"When Etno looked at you, your body believed you had already been cut."

The memory returned instantly.

His arm, his chest, the pain, and the wounds that never existed.

Thane’s eyes widened. "That wasn’t a technique?"

"No."

"It wasn’t a blessing either?"

"No."

The giant looked genuinely horrified. "That’s terrifying."

Bod laughed.

Several nearby candidates wanted to be part of that laugh, but they were too far away.

Then Thane asked the most important question. "How do I stop it?"

Bod’s smile slowly faded.

For the first time, he answered seriously. "Intent."

The giant waited, but...

Bod continued. "Your own." The answer was more puzzling.

Silence followed, a strange long silence that made Thane question his hearing or comprehension abilities.

The words sounded simple. Yet they carried weight that Thane didn’t understand.

Before Thane could ask another question, Bod stepped backward.

Then raised his hand. The referee looked confused, very confused.

The spear user smiled. "I surrender."

The entire arena exploded. People shot to their feet.

Others began shouting. Several judges looked ready to throw something.

The referee nearly choked. "What?"

"I surrender."

"Why?"

Bod pointed toward Thane. "Because I already know I won’t reach the final."

Then he pointed toward Etno. "And because I want to see that fight."

The crowd immediately understood. The final.

Everyone wanted the same thing.

Thane versus Etno.

The giant versus the swordsman.

The strongest body against the sharpest blade.

Bod simply happened to be honest about it.

The referee looked utterly defeated.

Eventually, he announced the result.

"Victory."

A pause.

"Thane."

The crowd erupted once more.

Thane remained silent. No joy or anything. His next fight would be terrifying.

He wanted to learn more and more about Etno and intent.

Etno was not amused at all.

The swordsman immediately approached Bod. "What did you tell him?"

Bod smiled. "Nothing important."

Etno stared as Bod kept smiling.

The stare continued. Eventually, the spear user surrendered.

"A little advice."

Etno sighed. "What advice?"

"I gave him another chance against you."

The swordsman’s expression remained unchanged.

Yet those who knew him well immediately noticed the faint irritation. "You shouldn’t interfere."

Bod shrugged. "Maybe."

Then he walked away, still smiling.

Etno watched him leave, then shook his head.

Some people simply enjoyed causing trouble.

The second semifinal soon began.

Etno stepped into the arena.

Across from him stood the final Drevlorn candidate.

Hodyr.

Unlike Donovan, Hodyr possessed no arrogance. Or perhaps he did, but thought not to show it after what happened to Donovan.

The young man stood nearly six feet tall.

Broad shoulders and a powerful frame.

His weapon rested across his shoulder.

A greatsword rested on his shoulder as he walked forward.

Even though it was merely a wooden training weapon, it still looked intimidating.

Many spectators leaned forward.

This would be the first time Etno faced a truly dangerous opponent since the tournament began.

Hodyr had quietly defeated everyone placed before him.

The Drevlorn warrior had earned his place. No one doubted that.

Meanwhile, Thane returned to the waiting area, resting his aching body and dulling his pain with thought.

The giant sat down heavily. His axe rested beside him.

Though he refused to look away from the fight that was about to start, he watched intently, trying to figure out Etno’s secret.

Intent. If it was really a thing... was there a way to see it?

Upon Etno Kamsi and his sword.

The giant replayed Bod’s words repeatedly.

Sword intent.

Intent.

Your own intent.

The concepts felt distant and complicated.

Yet something about them lingered. Thane couldn’t explain why.

The crowd disappeared from his awareness. The cheers faded.

Only Etno remained.

Deep inside his battered chest, his heart continued burning.

His body wanted rest. His muscles wanted sleep.

His wounds wanted healing. Yet the fighter inside him wanted something else.

One more battle. One more chance and opportunity.

This time, he wanted to truly fight Etno Kamsi.

Not in a team battle. Not while distracted or trying to defend and help teammates.

But a real fight. A one-versus-one duel.

A fight where neither could hide behind teammates.

A fight where only one remained standing.

As the semifinal began, Thane leaned forward, watching with focus.

Because for the first time since entering the academy examinations—

The giant wasn’t thinking about winning only.

He was thinking about how to overcome someone stronger than himself.