The awkward silence was broken as Malfait stepped onto the sand next, her wooden rapier in her hand. “Not bad, Leatherhead.” She raised her weapon in a salute and smirked at him. “Up for one more round?” Lash eyed the blonde for a long moment. He already had his victory, and felt it was unlikely that Lieutenant Minerva would fault him for turning Malfait down, but something stopped him. When he didn’t immediately answer, Malfait’s smile widened. Her green eyes seemed to flicker with barely-contained amusement. “What’s the matter? Are you scared?” Her smile, whether she meant it to be or not, was infectious, and Lash felt himself smiling as well as he straightened. After wiping his face clean of sweat on the sleeve of his uniform, he readied his two-shielded stance again. “Not of you, Sparkles.” Malfait’s eyes widened in outrage. Tress Minerva kept her face composed, but Lash could see that much was a challenge. “Alright, Khamer, looks like you’ll get your wish. Same rules as before. Begin!” The blonde didn’t immediately rush to attack, but Lash had expected as much—she wouldn’t prove so easily predictable and show off the same attacks as the first time. Instead, she circled with him in the pit, holding her weapon at the ready. Malfait didn’t have size or weight on her side, and speed didn’t mean as much in a prepared, practiced fight. What Malfait did have on her side was magic, and she quickly put it to good use. With one hand still clutching her rapier, the other made wild, quick gestures—when she swirled it around and around, a sudden swirling gust built and rushed around Lash, and the sand tried to blind him; when she swung her hand back and forth, in the same way that she’d slammed the fortress’ door shut the previous day, now sharp blasts of wind struck him on one side or the other, trying to knock Lash off his feet or at least draw his guard down to allow her to strike him. Her quick, fluttery fighting style was very different from the slow, defensive manner Lash was used to. Lash knew it was no small feat to channel elemental magic while also fighting at the same time, so Malfait had some skill. Every time he felt the same power in the air, a creeping sensation across his skin before she tried to strike him down. He was forced to close his eyes against the swirling sands and took several sharp blows of her rapier to his ribs for it, but with his eyes nearly shut he could still spot her shock of blonde hair through his heavy lashes and knocked away more than three or four of her blows for every successful poke she gave him. He was already bruised from his fight with Eborin; one or two more was negligible. “What’s the matter, Leatherhead?” Malfait called, shouting as her rapier was knocked away again and again, filling the air with the sound of banging, ringing metal. “You’re slowing down! Are you trying to bore me into giving up?!” “This was your idea!” he said before lunging forward, knocking her weapon high with one hand while grabbing the front of her uniform with the other. “And stop calling me that,” he added, narrowing his eyes down at her. “You—! Get your hands off me!” Malfait set both hands on his chest and pushed backwards. When Lash let go, she stumbled and nearly lost her footing, but then came lunging forward again, sweeping and slicing with her weapon, her face a mask of concentration and ferocity. Lash felt more magic in the air, followed by a sharp pain that shot up his forearm to the tips of his fingers when one of her thrusts slipped through his defenses. Malfait managed to slide the wooden sword between his arm and the leather strap binding his shield in place. A look of triumph came over her face as she twisted her wrist and pulled up sharply, throwing the buckler higher into the arm before it fell with a dull, comical clanging noise on the stones below. “Ha-hah!” she cried, sweeping the rapier before her with a smile. “Not so sure of yourself now, are you?!”