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“Are you not going to don that ice armour of yours?” Sam asked with a tone of warning, he would not hold back in this fight, it was the only way to truly test Frost’s capabilities.

Frost smiled in response, “only if you use yours,” he declared with a strong aura of pride in his eyes. He already knew that Sam could use metal chakra but he wasn’t using it at the moment so he wouldn’t either. He too wished to see how far he could go against someone of the same rank but with so much more experience.

This battle wouldn’t be like the one he had with Adam or Shadow, his opponent was a similar close combat user, like that Rock who he managed to barely endure a few blows from.

“Alright if that’s what you want.” Sam replied with no less pride, he was quite relaxed, opposed to his opponent who was rather tense.

Lola looked at the two of them before calling out, “when this coin reaches the floor the battle will commence, are you ready?”

“Ready”

“Ready” both Frost and Sam yelled at the same time causing a smirk to grow on Lola’s lips. Without a shred of hesitation, she dropped the coin.

Frost’s gaze eyed the falling coin like a hawk, waiting for the exact moment it landed. When it did he’d charge out like a rocket, he was the younger fighter and should be aggressive plus if Sam gained momentum his great sword could truly be devasting.

.....

A half second later the coin touched the ground and Frost rung his head around and dashed forward, dragging his glaive along with him, he moved like a bullet, far faster than one would think he was capable of.

Sam however had a relaxed expression; his body was loose and instead of charging ahead like an overeager child he calmly waited for Frost to come to him. Frost’s fast dash was impressive but nothing Sam hadn’t seen before; he kept his stance. His great sword outstretched before him was a standard stance allowing for movement into attack or defence. He watched as Frost reached his position in less than a second.

Frost’s glaive was swung sideways, he utilised his charging speed to enhance the swing. The glaive cleaved through the air cutting at near supersonic speed, generating a howl, this would be a deadly blow if it met its target.

Sam however was unfazed, he held a small smirk on his face before like a phantom took single step back, he was so swift and smooth in his movement that it looked as though he left an afterimage. Frost’s glaive missed him by a hair’s breadth and left him unguarded.

Frost’s eyes opened wide in bewilderment, not expecting a man of Sam’s frame to move so seamlessly, he was caught unprepared.

The next moment a heavy sinking feeling filled Frost’s body, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up in warning. His gaze quickly drifted upwards. Sam’s thick great sword was raised and poised to cleave down, right on top of his head. A cold sweat trickled down his neck as Frost felt the stench of death. Sam wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t going to hold back, Frost could feel killing intent.

Frost however was not out of the game just yet, his physical abilities were only greater than Sam’s not lesser, he still had time. In the fraction of a second that Sam’s great sword started its downward trajectory Frost utilised his still side swinging glaive to rotate his body out of harm’s way.

The great sword came down with immense speed and force, Frost narrowly avoiding being decapitated but the resulting wind pressure left a cut on his cheek, it was too close for comfort. The exchange didn’t end there, Frost was still rotating, his back was currently facing Sam. With deft skill he flipped his glaive, gripping with both hands he pierced behind him.

Clang!

Frost’s glaive edge met with Sam’s great sword somehow and he was send tumbling forward by the residual force. Sam’s downward cleave wasn’t so simple, the moment his sword smashed against the floor he used the impact to rapidly swing back up, knocking against Frost’s glaive with impeccable timing. This move was in fact quite popular with pole weapon users, the fact that he used against Frost was a mixture of a teaching moment and slight insult.

Frost rolled across the ground, leaning into the residual force instead of against, he needed distance and time to reorient himself, wary of being on the defensive. It was the correct move, Sam didn’t let up, resting his great sword upon his shoulder he dashed after the rolling Frost. He wasn’t a quick as Frost was, but his movements were direct, and none were wasted.

From this short exchange Frost could tell that Sam’s great sword mastery was also at the adept level (level 3) around the same as his but the man’s experience made it feel far superior. Sam could easily predict Frost’s movements both in attack and defence thanks to his vast amount of battle experience. He only needed half the effort that Frost did to perform the same movements.

Lola watched on with rapt attention, her eyes narrowed as she analysed the battle from every angle. She knew her husband’s strength and could easily tell that he wasn’t holding back in the slightest, in fact he didn’t have the chance to hold back. Though Frost appeared to be worse off in the exchange he was unharmed even with Sam’s superior movements. It showed the difference in speed and reaction time. If one of them makes a single mistake it could spell the immediate end and given Sam’s experience he was less likely to make a mistake first.

The odds were not in Frost’s favour, but he still had a chance. As long as the battle dragged on Frost would adapt and learn, his talent was greater than Sam’s as was his physical state, the question would be if he could last long enough for it too matter. This point was not lost on Sam; thus, he went all out from the get-go, he’d use every last trick he had to pummel his foe and learn what his limits were.

You may think that such a deadly spar was pointless given their location and lack of a healer but the rewards of such a no holds barred competition were too good to pass up.

Bang!

Sam brought down his great sword against the ice floor, sending plumes of ice dust everywhere, he just missed Frost as he got his bearings. Frost had to jump backwards to avoid the slash the instant he scrambled to his feet. The hairs on the back of his head were still upright and the cold sweat started to accumulate down his spine yet on his face was a mad smile. His eyes were glittering with excitement as he watched Sam move, his heart started pounding in his chest, the music of battle began to sound in his ears.

Taking advantage of Sam’s momentary lag, Frost slammed his feet against the ground and fired himself towards his foe, his glaive outstretched in a powerful thrust.

Shinnnnggg!

Sam raised his great sword up with a smooth motion, diverting Frost’s thrust without difficulty. The two weapons grinded against one another in passing, releasing not only a high pitched sound but actual sparks.

Sam stomped down with his left foot before shoulder barging his own great sword. The perpendicular force send Frost’s glaive flying off to the side. If it was a regular weapon it may have been shattered from such a blow.

The strong impact was unexpected, twisting Frost and his weapon knocking him off balance.

‘Shit!’ Frost cursed internally as he felt himself rebuffed; his guard wide open for Sam’s next swing.

With the force from the shoulder barge Sam’s great sword was now above his head, ready to slash diagonally and there was little Frost could do to stop him. His body was airborne, feet too far from the ground to dodge, he was a sitting duck.

Sam wasn’t taking any chances, his face remained focussed and cold. Tensing his massive arms he swung down, the air howling as his sword cleaved its way to Frost.

“[Executioner’s slash]!” with a roar Sam activated his skill, red light covered his great sword, amplifying its power. This skill was equivalent to Frost’s [crescent slash] a slight upgrade to the regular slash skill.

Death was staring Frost dead in the face, the great sword appeared to be moving in slow motion, yet it felt that no matter how slow it moved he couldn’t evade. Yet even now his face showed a wild expression, he was loving this, being on the knife’s edge literally, was there a better time for one to bring out their potential.

Frost’s brain was in full gear as he analysed his options, each one ending up with him dead. The great sword grew imperceptibly closer with every failed attempt until finally he had a breakthrough. Without much thought as though it was purely instinctual, Frost’s eyes never left the path of great sword, yet his glaive was knocked up from the butt, almost instantly bringing the glaive blade against the ground.

He now had an anchor to manoeuvre with.