Alexios was bare-chested, training sword in hand. He took two long strides, closing in on Lycurgus at tremendous speed, then swung his right arm, trying to get past Lycurgus's shield.
But Lycurgus defended against Alexios's blade without leaving an opening. The unsharpened sword slammed against his shield, sending sparks flying.
The Short Sword in Lycurgus's other hand was ready to strike his brother. He waited for the right moment, then thrust upward at Alexios's abdomen. But Alexios quickly stepped aside, dodging the attack, and took the opportunity to kick the side of Lycurgus's knee. The kick made Lycurgus buckle and drop to one knee.
As he attacked, Alexios lectured his younger brother:
"You're too slow. A shield is a weapon, too. You won't win if all you do is use it to protect yourself."
Alexios swung his sword and slammed it into his brother's head. He hit Lycurgus so hard that the blow left him reeling and sent him sprawling to the ground. His scalp split open, and a dozen drops of bright red blood fell onto the floor of the Fighting Cage.
Lycurgus didn't pass out, but he had essentially lost the ability to continue fighting. A Servitor opened the cage and carried him away. Fortunately, the wound soon stopped bleeding.
Around the Fighting Cage, a crowd of veterans in Power Armour and bare-chested Neophytes stood in a circle, enjoying the duel.
At that moment, the Blackrock and four other ships were in the Warp, their fleet traveling through it. Bored, Peter had arranged the duel. The two winning Neophytes would inherit the War Band's two surplus suits of Power Armour.
Many Neophytes had been injured in the duels, some even suffering broken bones from training weapons, but that was within acceptable limits. They were Space Marines, after all, and would spend their lives preparing for war. Getting injured or breaking a bone at the hands of their brothers during training was a minor matter.
Alexios had now defeated Lycurgus and advanced. The other pair would soon decide which of them was the champion.
Peter and Anthony, watching the duel from the side, chatted.
Peter said to his brother:
"Alexios is the most well-rounded of all the Neophytes. He could become the Leader of this batch, and lead even more Neophytes in the future."
Anthony agreed:
"True. Of the contenders, I favor Randolph. He's the biggest Neophyte, and a real brute who likes using a Battle Axe. Colin's Chain Axe can go to him."
Peter agreed, adding:
"He's not just a brute. That big, lumbering fellow is pretty cunning, too. In his last duel, he used his axe to hook away his opponent's shield, then finished him off with headbutts and punches."
Randolph, a tall man with a coarse, bushy beard, carried a massive Two-Handed Battle Axe on his shoulder as he swaggered into the Fighting Cage. His opponent, Gorgias, was also bare-chested. Holding a Training Sword, he leaped up, grabbed a metal crossbar, and vaulted into the cage from above.
Gorgias was two meters tall, making him relatively slender for a Space Marine. His weapon was a standard One-Handed Sword.
Randolph was taller and more muscular. He wielded a Two-Handed Battle Axe, which he could sometimes swing with one hand while using the other to punch his opponent in the face.
The two men faced each other, and the duel began.
Gorgias took a defensive stance first. His sword pointed diagonally toward the floor, and he leaned forward slightly, ready to meet the coming attack. Randolph strode toward him, both hands gripping the Battle Axe. Under the lights, his muscles looked especially solid. He let out a roar and charged at Gorgias, swinging the axe. Though it was unsharpened, its edge still gleamed coldly.
Gorgias quickly retreated, dodging Randolph's first attack. He knew it would be unwise to meet the big man head-on; he had to rely on his own speed and agility. He began circling around the Fighting Cage, looking for an opening, while Randolph kept swinging his Battle Axe, trying to catch sight of him.
Gorgias's swordplay was like a dance, graceful and deadly. At times he darted in with a swift thrust; at others, he sent a flash of steel through the air. Every attack was precise, but Randolph's tremendous strength and the broad face of his Battle Axe always let him block at the last moment. As they fought, Gorgias kept changing the rhythm of his attacks, trying to disrupt Randolph's footing. As the duel wore on, Randolph began to tire. His attacks remained fierce, but they had lost some of their speed and force.
Gorgias seized the opportunity and launched a more aggressive assault. Randolph gripped his Battle Axe around the middle of its haft, while Gorgias held his sword by the hilt. Making use of his sword's greater reach, Gorgias repeatedly thrust at Randolph's vital areas, forcing him to focus on defending himself.
Even the stoutest defense could fail eventually. Gorgias deftly flicked the tip of his sword against Randolph's Battle Axe, knocking it aside, then immediately followed up with a thrust to Randolph's chest. Randolph tried in vain to block the strike with the axe haft, but Gorgias's sword had already left a deep wound in his chest.
The victor was decided.
Everyone was a little surprised by the upset, but only a little. A big physique didn't necessarily mean someone was strong. Take Anthony, for example: he was quite short, stocky, and stout, standing less than 1.9 meters tall without his Power Armour. But he was an excellent swordsman, and had taken down many big fellows who underestimated him because of his size.
Anthony suddenly asked an unrelated question:
"Captain, why did you order these Neophytes to go home and visit their families? They're already Astartes. They should serve the War Band, not cling to their past as ordinary mortals."
Peter turned to face his brother, meeting his eyes—the one intact and the other hidden in a seam of melted flesh.
"I didn't do it for the Neophytes, but for the mortals. Anthony, glory is a strange thing. You can't eat or drink it, and it has no physical form. Yet almost everyone can feel it. Letting these Neophytes speak with their families, even just this once, lets the mortals know their boys have become angels and brought glory home."
Peter turned to look at the arena. Alexios and Gorgias were about to fight their final duel.
"I'm an Olympian. In my childhood memories, nine out of ten homes in my hometown stood empty, and there were few men around. Everyone hated it when the Legion came to recruit, because it meant there would be even fewer boys."
"Those boys never came back. They should have grown up, married, had children, and worked in factories or fields. That's why we can't recruit from the Homeworld without restraint. At least let the Neophytes return home, so the mortals know their children haven't simply vanished forever."
By then, the duel had ended. To everyone's surprise, Gorgias had won. It seemed this Neophyte really did have a talent for close-quarters combat.
Alexios and Gorgias would therefore inherit the Power Armour of their fallen brothers.
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