Sarah's Story Chapter 020 - Survivalist vs Brawler

The muscle man went on to explain that first, there would be two spars: one with Sarah on the offense with the goal of taking himself to the ground, the second with Sarah on the defense with him taking her to the ground. Both would be unarmed. Then they would spar with weapons until one side yielded.

“Do you have a preferred weapon? The big book was a little vague, saying Brawlers use all weapons…”

“Yes, that’s right: anything is a weapon if you’re holding it right.” Sarah recited one of her parents’ favorite sayings from training.

“Uh huh…” Mr. Tenns looked unsure. “Staves good with you?”

Sarah nodded. “Yes, that’s fine.”

At that, the large man’s face relaxed. “Okay, good! Just a head’s up, I’m pretty good with a staff.”

Sarah tilted her head. “Uh, I mean, I’m not really good with staves, if that’s what you’re assessing…”

But the man shook his head. “No, no, I won’t be judging you on your staff skills, don’t worry. It’s just a spar.”

Sarah frowned, feeling a little nervous, but when she turned to Beth there was no help there.

“Well then, I’ll step back and let you two have at it.” She then walked into the shade cast by a nearby shed and stood ramrod straight, hands in front of her skirt, watching them.

Sarah was starting to feel nervous, and moved back a little from Mr. Tenns, and got ready to start the spar.

Mr. Tenns took a deep breath and got into a grappling stance.

He was level eleven in his Survivalist class, and he had a wide variety of skills for both armed and unarmed combat. With boosts in Vitality and Endurance, it was a very defensively-focused class, well-suited for assessing young applicants to the Guild with strong classes.

But never had a level two Class set off his [Danger Sense] skill like this, and his [Threat Awareness] skill was completely useless. Either the girl was entirely covered in hidden knives, or she was a threat with literally every part of her body. And that wasn’t all: the entire yard was setting off his skills, and had been since the moment he laid eyes on her.

Nor did she have any openings that he could see. She stood across from him, ten yards away, in a loose stance maximizing freedom of movement.

Mr. Tenns could feel the sweat breaking out on his forehead, and it had nothing to do with the afternoon sun beating down on them.

“Okay, first spar, your goal is to take me to the ground and the spar ends when you succeed or I call an end.” He paused. “Or if Beth calls an end or either of us falls unconscious.”

That wasn’t a normal part of the assessment. But his [Survival Instinct] was blaring in his ear, demanding it.

Sarah, for her part, didn’t act like anything was amiss and simply responded with “Understood.”

Her eyes didn’t leave his the entire time.

Such focus. Such discipline.

He really wanted to just pass her here and now, but it was his job to give a thorough assessment. Normally this was easy: the newbies didn’t know anything and needed training, Rank F, see you at the weekly training sessions.

This was way more dangerous. It felt more like a spar against a peer Adventurer, but worse, because this sparring partner didn’t even know her own strength.

Would she know how to hold back?

Newbies often didn’t. More than one assessor had taken a bad wound by letting their guard down around a level one Knife Wielder who lashed out on Class-fueled instinct and landed a lucky shot.

Thankfully, the big book said that Brawlers used all weapons, but that often they fought unarmed, at least at first. And he had said they would both spar unarmed.

Okay, enough stalling.

“Begin!”

He forced himself to keep his muscles loose and ready to respond to Sarah’s approach. Most newbies rushed in, focused entirely on the goal of taking him to the ground. It made them easy to throw or grapple. Of course, for weapon-using classes, the goal was to land a blow with a wooden training weapon, but for unarmed classes like Pugilist or Martial Artist, this was the standard test.

Sarah, unlike most new applicants, remained still and observed. Then, slowly, like molasses, she started sliding her bare feet across the ground, rotating around Mr. Tenns while also closing the distance almost imperceptibly.

At no point was her guard down. At no point did she create an opening.

What beautiful form.

What a terrifying opponent.

This continued for a tense minute as Mr. Tenns endured his own instincts.

It was just when he thought of ending the spar early that Sarah darted in. His muscles tensed momentarily, but it was a feint. She had lunged forward but then tumbled off to the side, in the opposite direction they had been rotating, and as he hurried to fix his footing and turn to keep her in front of him, he felt her hand on his ankle.

Sarah pulled with all her strength. If she tugged his foot forward, the large man would lose his balance and fall to the ground. And if not… multiple options for follow up flashed through her mind, but–

“Stop!”

She let go of his ankle and leapt back several yards before standing up in a ready position again.

Mr. Tenns fell backwards, but instead of falling to his back, he caught himself with his hands in a bridge position. It was a bit awkward, but he was able to hop back to his feet again.

Sarah couldn’t help but be aware of Beth watching them with a surprised look on her face, but she remained focused on Mr. Tenns.

“Well done, Sarah. Now we’ll move on to the second spar. Just a reminder: no weapons, and the goal is for me to take you to the ground. The spar ends when you’re taken to the ground, I or Beth calls a stop, or someone is knocked unconscious. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, begin!”

The large man darted in explosively, but it was a feint, just to see how Sarah would react. She merely lowered her hands slightly, her hips already lowered to the optimal level to respond to approaches, her footing secure. If he continued, she’d throw him. No, wait, with the weight difference, she wouldn’t have the raw strength for a throw.

He had already transitioned to running around into her blind spot, trying to unroot her footing, when he realized that she wasn’t preparing for a throw, but a grapple. She would have used the leverage and momentum of his tackle to swing herself up–

But that meant she wasn’t rooted at all.

She was perfectly prepared to take to the air.

He darted in again from the side, prepared for her to leap, but instead Sarah fell to the floor and shot out a leg, knocking his ankle aside just enough to put him off balance.

He had too much momentum. He transitioned to a roll, but it was awkward, and he’d have an opening mid-roll before he got full control and balance back.

And Sarah was twisting along the ground tucking her legs in while balanced on her hands.

A rabbit kick?

“Stop!”

He yelled out mid-roll, but it was too late. No way a girl fresh from Choosing Day, still growing accustomed to her Class’ instincts would be able to hold back an attack like that, not while he was still barreling past her at speed.

He was going to take a hit.

He hated taking hits.

He tensed his muscles, abandoning the roll and recovery to focus entirely on enduring the hit. And just his luck, she was perfectly lined up hit him in the head. All his instincts and Skills were blaring full warnings, but there wasn’t even a second to prepare further.

Mr. Tenns fell to the ground and rolled over with the momentum. No strike landed. He scrambled to his feet and leapt back, away from Sarah, who was landing from her rabbit-kick-turned-handspring perfectly on her feet and dropping back into a ready position.

Beth, nearly thirty yards away, tilted her head a fraction of an inch in confusion. Why had Mr. Tenns called an end to the spar? From what she had seen, Sarah had fallen to the ground when she was tackled. A bit brutish, but certainly a valid way to tell if a new applicant could dodge an obvious rushing tackle.

Her own [Danger Sense] was, as usual, maximally active, as it always was around mid and high ranking Adventurers. [Threat Location] was keeping track of both Sarah and Mr. Tenns in the yard ahead of her, as well as several other Adventurers who were approaching the Guildhall entrance and Tiffany who was standing at the reception desk.

With ten yards between them again, Mr. Tenns stood for a moment breathing heavily, letting the rush work its way out of his system before speaking. Sarah merely stood ready, eyes open, ready for another attack.

No. Not just another attack from Mr. Tenns. He could see her eyes focused on him, but she was also making slight adjustments every time Beth moved or shifted her weight as she watched them.

He took one last deep breath, then held up a hand.

“Sarah.”

“Yes, Mr. Tenns?” She responded, not letting her guard down even a little bit.

“How long have you been sparring?” It was an absurd question. He already knew she had only had her Choosing Day in the last week–

“About two years now. Mostly with my father. He wouldn’t let me spar with my mother except a few times.”

Mr. Tenns blinked. “You were sparring with your father while unclassed?”

Beth coughed, and both Sarah and Mr. Tenns covered their mouths with their hands.

“Yes, I knew I wanted to be a Brawler, so he trained me.”

“And his classes?”

“Mr. Tenns!” Beth interrupted angrily.

He took a deep breath. He knew he wasn’t supposed to ask these kinds of questions. At least, not normally. But with this girl…

“Beth, I’ve determined it’s relevant to the combat assessment. Specifically whether or not Sarah received training from a Brawler for two years prior to application to the Guild.”

“Sarah, I disagree with Mr. Tenns as to the relevancy of that question! You don’t have to answer unless you want to; it will not impact whether or not you’ll be accepted into the Guild.” Beth said, loudly and quickly, but still covering her mouth with her hand.

Mr. Tenns held himself back from shaking his head. Whether or not she’ll be accepted? Preposterous. The Guild should be begging her to join. Sarah had a sense for combat most C Rank adventurers lacked, and a control of herself in a spar even B Ranks didn’t always match.

No, the question was relevant for the safety of the participants in the combat assessment. Namely, himself. He was feeling lucky. Damn lucky that Sarah had that much experience sparring, that she could hold back an attack at the last possible moment and break off the spar as soon as a stop was called.

He was strongly reconsidering the last spar, the weapons assessment. But… He couldn’t just leave it blank either.

“It’s alright Beth,” Sarah called out. She turned to Mr. Tenns. “Yes, he’s a Brawler as well. He trained me because he said my mom was too strong to train an unclassed child, and he was right…” She trailed off, ominously.

Or at least that’s how it sounded to Mr. Tenns.

There was no way out of this, huh.