Chapter 9: Mockingbird
We both glared at each other intensely. He had a stubborn look in his eyes, and frankly, my patience was wearing thin. This whole situation was ridiculous; they asked me to spar, then interrupted and attacked me out of nowhere.
"Look at what you did," he said, gesturing to the hero on the ground.
But I didn’t dare look away; I wouldn’t give him the opportunity to attack while I was distracted. My refusal to look seemed to anger him more, and a bulging vein began to form on his forehead. In frustration, he ripped the golden mask off my face and tossed it to the ground.
"Tyrozan, let him go!" the man in the suit called out to him, but it was to no avail. "If you lay a hand on a single hair on that child’s head, your career is over."
Tyrozan turned to look at the man, his neck wide open. With a single swing, this troublesome situation could be over. I had the Blade of Calamity ready to end his tantrum. But just then...
"Ugh, dammit, that little bastard broke my nose!"
A pained moan came from below. The hero I had been sparring with got to his feet, his face bloodied as blood poured from his disfigured nose. It seemed my last attack had broken his nose. He looked unsightly, covered in his own blood and vomit. His legs wobbled as if he could collapse at any moment. He turned his attention to us.
"Let him go, Tyrozan. The kid did nothing wrong."
"Bullshit! I saw everything. He almost took your head off with that first swing!" His eyes drifted back to me. "That’s my brother you almost killed, you no good piece of trash!"
"Tyrozan! Let him go; I was the one who let my guard down," the injured hero said, putting on a sincere smile.
Tyrozan’s grip loosen until he released me completely. He then went over to his brother and had him lean on his shoulder.