From Deadbeat noble to Top Rank Swordsman

Yundar didn't speak as Leon stepped into the ring.

The sword in Leon's hand was plain ironwood again, chipped on the edges, grip wrapped in cloth. He turned it once in his palm to feel the weight. His arm didn't tremble this time, but it was close.

Yundar tossed a second sword at his feet.

"First blood to the chest," the old knight said. "Don't make me chase you."

Leon picked it up and took his stance. Forward foot light. Shoulders square. Blade vertical, tip angled toward Yundar's collarbone.

"Don't lean," Yundar snapped. "That's not balance. That's wishful thinking."

Leon adjusted.

"Better."

Yundar circled.

Leon matched him.

The courtyard was quiet, no wind, no birds, just boots scuffing dirt.