Chapter 125: Qzi's Strength

Squirt stepped forward, glaring the furious male redcap down in defiance before stating loudly and clearly, “Qzi is my second.”

Fury twisted his face, and he sneered—not at her, but at Qzi. “How like the weakling to fuck your way to power—"

“Then challenge me for it,” Qzi retorted just as Squirt had palmed a blade of her own, furious at the insult to Qzi.

Dryly, Pakos sent, I do believe the redcap can stab for himself.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want in on it.

I can see that.

Qzi stood, stepping around Squirt to face down the larger, more powerful redcap, his spine tall and proud.

She released the blade handle she had reached for on her belt, taking another step back and vainly hoping that she could fade from view.

While standing conveniently only an armlength away from the pest.

Yes, you very much don’t like father, I can see that.

Shut up and be ready to bite some heads off.

He was entirely too eager at this. Can I?

You don’t even eat flesh.

Indeed, I don’t. The indigestion is often worth the crunch, though. And the squelch.

She grimaced. Gross.

But oh so satisfying.

He had a point.

Shaking her head, she turned her attention back on the two redcaps sizing each other up in front of her. Pakos leapt up and into her arms, giving her something to hold and absentmindedly pet. She accepted the gesture of comfort for what it was, keeping her expression as stoic as possible as she petted the hound’s fluffy fur.

The other redcap drew himself up to his full height. “Very well then, runt, I challenge you for your position as second.”

Instructor Hawke quickly stepped up as everyone else took a collective step back. “Is this an official duel then?”

Both redcaps nodded, taking this brief respite to stretch and prepare before it began.

Instructor Hawke nodded once. “Very well. I will bear witness to this official duel. Lady Kenna?”

She smiled, the expression light, but Squirt could see just a touch of malice hidden in it. “Absolutely. I will be your second.”

“Excellent. Yavol, if you would create a ring, please?”

A spring fey stepped forward, murmuring an incantation before a ring sunk into the dirt appeared around the redcaps, marking the area of their duel.

Qzi added, “I request a shield.”

Squirt scowled for two reasons. The first being that she should have done that. The second being that Kenna immediately responded with a casual, “Granted,” before murmuring under her breath, showing how simple it might have been to do.

Gods damnit. It was annoying to realize just how much her upbringing made her miss out on basic common sense.

Mother dearest, I understand I am fluffy and soft, but could you stop gripping my fur like you’re trying to rip it out?

She flushed with a bit of shame, letting go and running her fingers through his fur gently to fix the clumps from her grip.

Ah, much better. A little to the left… yes, perfect. And have faith in your redcap. You’ve taught him well.

She had barely enough time to register the comment before Instructor Hawke called out, “Begin!” and her eyes snapped back to the action. The other fey, now wielding a longsword, launched himself at Qzi, only for Qzi to dart away in a move that seemed familiar. Qzi, meanwhile, used his claws to slit either wrist as he rolled, forming blades of his own blood.

The other fey bared his teeth in an open snarl. “What a waste of what little power you have. Couldn’t afford real ones?”

Squirt stiffened. Of course he could. He had tons. Always. Even from here, she could see the imprint of one in his boot, and two more at his waist.

So… what was he doing?

Qzi continued to dodge and weave as Squirt tried to figure out his angle. The other redcap was right—it made little sense to use magic with his power level. He had more than enough redcap magic, and redcaps were generally fairly powerful on the scale of fey races, meaning it was unlikely he’d run out in the next few minutes… but why risk it?

Letting her thoughts play out, they eventually wandered and gave her an abrupt epiphany.

He was moving like she did. How she moved with opponents larger than herself, ducking, dodging, and avoiding being hit as much as possible, sacrificing a possible attack if it risked her defense. At first, his opponent grinned angrily, a confidence to his anger that he would make Qzi eat dirt.

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Then the minutes dragged on, and his frustration grew.

And grew.

And grew.

Until he finally made a mistake.

Falling for a feint and throwing all his weight into a swing to the left intended to behead Qzi, Qzi darted the other direction, rolling and twisting midair to land his blades in the other fey’s ribs. A manic grin split his face as he jumped away, leaving the blades in place.

Annoyance crossed the other fey’s face as he turned around to face Qzi, mostly unaffected by the blades in his torso. He held out his hands and said patronizingly, “The one with the stronger magic overcomes, runt. Your blades are mine now.” With a brief bit of concentration, the blades of blood disintegrated, absorbed into the wound that then closed.

Qzi answered with a triumphant grin. “That’s the plan.”

The other redcap blinked a few times before his face suddenly paled. He gasped out, bent over as a cold sweat covered his brow.

Qzi made another blade of blood from his wrist, tossing it casually. “Control. Wasn’t that always what you told me? I needed to practice control.”

The other fey grabbed his longsword with a scream of rage, launching himself at Qzi and stumbling his way forward.

Qzi merely danced out of the way, still idly tossing the dagger of blood in his hand. “I did. Just like she practices, I practiced every day. Preparing to fight opponents bigger and stronger than myself. Accepting it.” He stretched with a grin, fluidly dancing out of the way of a few more wild swings before his opponent stumbled to his knees with a grunt of pain, dropping his sword as he did.

Causally, Qzi strolled up and crouched, one foot resting on the blade hilt to keep the other fey from grasping it as he gave the man a shit eating grin. “How’s the blazing ant powder feeling?”

Genuinely awed, Squirt was staring with a bit of wonder at the redcap, reading between the lines and making connections. He’d lost repeatedly because he was trying to fight like them, instead of like a weakling. He had been practicing in his own way every day, much like she did, and somehow, he’d used his blades to sneak a bunch of blazing ant powder into his opponent’s blood.

How? And more importantly, when?

The larger redcap winced, breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his face as he panted.

Qzi said coldly, “Yield and I’ll end it.”

Squirt swallowed, bracing herself. The wording had been unclear. Did he mean he would end the torture? Or end his life?

The other redcap looked equally unsure, and with a great scream of rage he threw himself at Qzi. Qzi smartly danced away, leaving the longsword available. His opponent scooped it up, rushing Qzi with slices so fast Squirt’s eyes could barely keep up. Pushing himself passed the pain in an attempt to brute force the ending.

Qzi ducked and dodged, keeping away from the blade until another opportunity presented itself, and he hit the man in the leg. Both redcaps froze, a stalemate.

Because Qzi had hit the femoral artery.

If his opponent had the control, he might be able to move the flow of his blood manually and continue the fight, even with the borderline mortal wound.

Might, being the key word.

But at this point, Qzi’s opponent was exhausted.

Palpable tension hung in the air, the crowd leaning closer, sucking in a collective breath.

“Live, or die?” Qzi asked.

One second. Two seconds. Five seconds passed before the stalemate was broken by a strained, “I yield.”

Relief flooded Squirt. He’d done it. Qzi had just defeated a redcap almost twice his side, and most definitely with twice his magic level, if not more.

A feat she pulled off frequently enough to both know it was possible and know how difficult it was to achieve.

Was she… proud of him?

Watching the triumphant Qzi as the crowd roared in stunned approval, she confessed being just a tiny bit proud.

The cheers died down, Instructor Hawke stepping forward and declaring Qzi as the official winner of the duel. The shield was dissolved, and Squirt noted that Kenna was not the only fey to look relieved at the outcome.

Which was odd, since Qzi was mad on a good day.

Apparently, the mad you knew was better than the mad you didn’t. Or something.

Having his win officially recognized by those present, Qzi stepped back with a smug smirk, pulling his blade along with him. Then he whistled, short and sharp, and the other man bit back a scream of visceral pain as thousands of tiny wounds ruptured all over his body, a dark red cloud that then returned to Qzi’s arm and eliciting a sympathetic ‘oo’ from the crowd.

The other fey collapsed to his knees, his hands over his body, but the paleness of pain was gone from his skin. It no longer looked clammy or sickly. Breathing heavily, he asked Qzi pointedly, “How can you stand that?”

Qzi shrugged and wiggled himself. “Feels tingly,” with a grin.

Feels tingly?

Squirt paled somewhat. Calling the blazing ant powder tingly was like comparing the pest’s raw magic to her own. How was he even standing?

And more importantly, how long had he had blazing ant powder in his bloodstream—

She grimaced, the visceral pain from only a couple of days ago front and center in her mind when she noted the beaming, prideful smile on the pest as he stared at Qzi. The pest looked seconds away from cheering loudly in celebration. Even his eyes gleamed brightly.

He turned his head, catching Squirt’s gaze, his smile somehow brightening even further. He leaned over, his fists clenched in a restrained cheer. “He did it! He won! That was so clever!”

Clever, remarkably stupid, or insane.

Probably all three, actually, now that she thought about it.

Qzi’s opponent, Pzeek, nodded a few times, his eyes lowered. “… why not take my head?”

“Because my pricklebear needs your head attached. She doesn’t like gifts of body parts.”

This confused the redcap. “Maybes she think them unworthy?”

Just like that, all of the tension was gone.

What the fuck?

Mother dearest, my fur?

Squirt grimaced, straightening it back out and wondering how the fuck it had turned from life or death to a casual fucking conversation.

Qzi answered Pzeek with a despondent, “No… she says they will rot and she does not like the smell.”

Again, the other redcap only looked more confused, thinking about it as he shifted to his feet. “Then… tell hers to finish before theys do?”

Qzi kicked the dirt, looking like a lovesick teenager. “She doesn’t need them for that, either.”

The man tried really hard to reason through this, based on the amount of furrowing of his brows he did in a minute. Eventually he landed on, “She’s no redcap?”

Squirt’s expression flattened. Was he serious? Qzi literally called her pricklebear in front of everyone, how did he not know that it was her?

Oh gods. She was surrounded by idiots, wasn’t she?

Qzi beamed. “She is now!” Then he turned his smile on her, making her scowl again at how gods damned bright and happy it was—“Isn’t that right, pricklebear?”

The other redcap had a clear epiphany, then stood, glancing her way before he clapped Qzi on the back. “Good pick on that one.”

… he was joking. He had to be. A redcap couldn’t have just looked at her, of all fey, and thought she was a good match.

But nope. She checked. The only other fey nearby was the pest, and the redcaps were clearly staring at her, not Qzi.

Ridiculous, stupid fey.

Clearly, the crisis was over. Giving them both an annoyed glare, she left the courtyard for Lord Everwinter’s office, not acknowledging either man. Later, in privacy, she could stab him.

Later.

Still, on her way out, she heard the hissed, “Oof, tough break for yous. Yous gots to grovel more,” followed by a wistful, “Yeah, I know.”

She just pretended she couldn’t.