Malik studied the circle.

’Small.’

Too small for a man of his size.

The restricted movement would make dodging nearly impossible.

A few stabs with the dagger, and death was almost guaranteed.

Experienced Magi would’ve avoided this kind of duel, even the strong ones.

The limited space simply left no room for error... but Malik wasn’t any Magi.

He casually stepped into the circle.

Mendax raised his dagger.

The blade caught the dying sunlight.

"Whenever you’re ready, Flipper of Armies."

Malik shifted his stance, one hand behind his back.

The dagger sat in front of his chest, aimed at Mendax’s throat.

"Let’s begin, boy."

With that, the two began to circle each other.

There was no need for any grand announcement.

A world narrowed to twenty feet of dirt.

The armies watched from a distance.

Under their gazes, Mendax moved first.

He lunged much faster than Malik expected.

The dagger stabbed into Malik’s chest, or so it seemed.

Malik twisted at the last moment, and the blade missed by a breath.

Without pause, Malik stabbed back, forcing Mendax to lean away.

Malik’s dagger cut empty air, close enough to shave the man’s cheek.

They quickly reset and began circling each other again, only for Mendax to move once more.

He slashed at Malik’s head, forcing Malik to duck. The blade passed over his hair. He came up stabbing, and Mendax dodged, the dagger grazing his shoulder instead of sinking into his neck.

’The bastard is experienced with this.’

They clashed again.

Dagger met dagger.

Steel rang against steel.

The sound echoed across the field.

Mendax grabbed Malik’s wrist and pulled.

He was trying to unbalance him, or at least draw him in close, where his dagger would do more damage.

Malik was ready.

He let himself be pulled, then struck.

His dagger pierced into Mendax’s side.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t deep enough to be fatal, but it was a good start.

Mendax hissed and pulled back while his hand went to his side.

It came away red.

"You’re faster than you look."

They circled again.

Mendax grabbed Malik’s wrist a second time and pulled him in. But this time, he twisted, putting Malik at an awkward angle, nearly facing away from his opponent with his back exposed.

Malik, entirely unfazed, struck backward without looking, his dagger finding Mendax’s arm.

The blade opened a gash from elbow to wrist.

"Gaah!"

Mendax cursed and released him.

Blood dripped from his fingers, his dagger hand shaking.

Malik slowly turned to face him, his expression unchanged.

’Three strikes. Side. Arm. One more should do it.’

Mendax lunged again, finally showing his desperation.

It was so very obvious that it didn’t go as he thought it would.

His movements were sloppier and far less controlled.

The blood loss was getting to him.

Perhaps he expected Malik to be rusty, a Magi only strong thanks to his Runes, but he was proven so very wrong.

Malik stepped back, letting Mendax overextend and fully commit to the attack.

Only then, when the plain man was fully open, did he move.

A single, straight jab.

The dagger sank into Mendax’s chest, perfectly placed.

Mendax’s legs gave out, and he dropped to his knees.

The dagger fell from his hand.

His fingers couldn’t hold it anymore.

Malik stared down at the fallen man.

"Was that it? I expected more from you. It was quite anticlimactic. I wonder, did you somehow think you could beat me in skill?"

Mendax’s face grew paler, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

His hands blindly searched the bloodied sand for his only hope of survival.

The very dagger that was currently beneath the sadistic Sultan’s boots.

"Hm. Tell me, what is it that you’re looking for down there?"

Malik brought himself to eye level with the dying man.

"It’s funny, isn’t it? How people like you always end up in the end?"

Finding nothing, Mendax’s right hand weakly moved.

A fist formed, connecting with Malik’s face.

The Sultan’s head turned with the soft blow, though only because it was pushed.

Not even bothering to send Mendax’s fist away, Malik kept looking down at him.

"You lost the duel; admit your defeat."

Mendax’s mouth opened.

His teeth came together.

Blood poured from between his lips... from his tongue.

The bastard had bitten his damned tongue off and swallowed it!

His eyes went glassy unnaturally quickly, and his body went limp.

Mendax collapsed onto his side and did not move again.

His Oath was broken, as were the daggers.

Malik stared at the body for a long moment.

’...what did I expect?’

He sighed deeply, stood up, and turned around.

Malik looked across the field at the invaders.

’He killed himself to invalidate the Rune Oath. Neither of us won, so...’

The enemy army was not retreating.

Instead, they were charging.

Their front ranks surged forward, soldiers with swords and spears, soldiers with elements in their hands and murder in their eyes.

Their final thousands, the ground shaking beneath their feet, dust rising behind them.

Malik stood alone.

His army was far behind him.

They had seen what happened.

And they were running towards him...

"CHHAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGGEE!"

Their war cries rose above the invaders as they pushed harder and faster, desperate to reach him before the enemy did.

Sinbad, Azeem, Noor, Zafar, Kabir, and the rest went forth as well, meeting enemies in the sky and shadows.

They seemed to think their Sultan was safe, so they focused on how best to assist him, not knowing that his life was on the edge.

Meanwhile, Malik stayed entirely still.

He simply watched the enemy come closer.

His eyes measured the distance between them.

A hundred feet.

’Fifty.’

’Thirty.’

They had gotten close enough now that he could easily see their faces.

Young and old, terrified and worse, men and women who had been told he was weak, told that he was dying, told that this would be an easy victory.

None of them wanted to do this.

They so desperately wanted to retreat, but they forced themselves anyway, going against every survival instinct they had, knowing that they had no other option.

It was certain death whichever way they went.

But at least this way, they could fell a Villain.

’Twenty.’

’Ten.’

’Five.’

’Two.’

They were upon him.

’...one’