On normal days, which had only fairly recently become common, the only things that were audible across the roads of Ylisse were the mulling about of merchant caravans and the screeches of various birds of prey. These sounds were usually fairly audible in the Arena Ferox, as the crowds drawn to the Arena, though loud, were not enough to drown out a falcon's screech or the sound of merchants peddling their wares.

Today, however, surprised even the Feroxian Khans who so dutifully maintained the Arena. The sound of the combatants drawing their weapons was immediately followed by an uproar that was so loud, the falcon would no longer be noticed, and the merchants' calls were drowned out, even in the Arena's entrance.

A royal musketeer, one of Montellier's best, was facing off against Lon'Qu, a Feroxian member of former Prince Chrom's warband, raised during the war with Grima that had so weathered the continent. The musketeer, a veteran of the wars that followed the reformation in his own country, raised his rapier so that its hilt was parallel to his body, dividing his face, before quickly snapping the rapier back to a ready position at his side. Like all Guardian musketeers, he was incredibly proficient with his rapier. Many enemies had fallen to his weapon in just a few strokes. As a result, the sight of the young man standing before him with his sword tossed lazily into the ground didn't daunt him whatsoever. Still, he maintained his military bearing, and gave his respect to his foe. He saluted Lon'Qu by tipping his hat, and waited for a response.

Lon'Qu, his hair disheveled, and his posture questionable, drew his Killer Edge from the floor of the Arena, and taunted the musketeer by swiping his thumb across his nose. Before the Guardian could even process this somewhat petty show of disrespect, Lon'Qu rushed forward, trying to astonish his opponent with a war cry.

The musketeer raised his rapier once more. "Alors, on y va!" He responded, with a charge of his own, and the crowd bellowed. Lon'Qu swiped first, taking a slash that used his speed to maximize the potential damage. The musketeer, who had felled champions that were revered in their own organizations, saw this a mile away; he leapt back just as Lon'Qu swiped, and used the tip of his rapier to catch the edge and offset Lon'Qu's momentum.

Lon'Qu's arm was thrown upward by the force of the rapier, and the musketeer began his own assault, thrusting when Lon'Qu deflected a slash, and slashing when Lon'Qu deflected a thrust. With each deflection, Lon'Qu's edge was batted further and further away from his body, until he wasn't able to bring it back to his center in time to deflect yet another blow from the musketeer. The musketeer had been counting on this. He crossed his rapier's handguard with that of Lon'Qu's Killer Edge, and, in a deft circular motion of his rapier, he sent Lon'Qu's blade sailing across the Arena.

Before Lon'Qu could adapt, the Musketeer withdrew his rapier, tucked in his gloved fist, and span around, delivering a punch as his fist passed the air in front of Lon'Qu's face. As the Feroxian was thrown to the ground, the musketeer plunged his rapier into the ground next to Lon'Qu's face.

The crowd swelled with applause, and the young Guardian took his hat in hand and bowed to the crowd and his opponent, as his own code of chivalry, and his military's code of honor, compelled him to do so. Lon'Qu remained on the field, eyes wide and breath heavy, as the musketeer collected his rapier with flair, and walked off the Arena into the spectator area, surrounded by newfound fans.

One of the spectators was Chrom himself, settling into his new role as regent of Ylisse. He often tried to make appearances around the allied nations of the country, and this event epitomized that. The Feroxi, the Ylisseans, even the Valmese and Plegians were all present, in some form or another, usually by some spectators and a representative of their respective leaderships. The Guardian Federation, a very young nation that had no land claims on the continent, but a strong alliance with the Ylisseans, even found themselves participating, and quite frankly, surpassing everyone else in this international tournament.

Chrom was dumbstruck, as a matter of fact; Lon'Qu had bested almost all of Prince Chrom's war party in practice matches, including Prince Chrom on one occasion. Chrom had seen Guardia's soldiers fight several times, but he was still impressed when he saw them operate as they did. With him were his daughter and sister, and they were just as impressed. His daughter, Lucina, made a minor exclamation, before imagining with Lissa, Chrom's sister, what their training was like.

In fact, the two duelists were polar opposites. The musketeer, like the rest of the corps, was extremely proficient with many weapons, and was the picture of professionalism. In war, Federal musketeers served as officers when grouped with the line infantry employed by Guardia, and when fighting in a full company of musketeers, they served as the elite infantry of the Federation. They were extremely well rounded, capable of fighting at range with muskets, a weapon so odd and alien to the continent, the concept of it still eluded Ylisse and its neighboring countries. The Federation very much enjoyed the exclusivity it maintained with this technological advantage. Still, the Guardian Federation prided itself on well-rounded soldiers. The infantry usually fought with fixed bayonets, effectively turning every mainline soldier into a devastating CQB unit or groups of them into devastating firing lines. Tercios split their weaponry down the middle; half carried heavy pikes while the other half carried muskets, creating a defense that shattered ranged assaults and broke charges like glass against a wall.

Musketeers embodied this idea of a jack of all trades. They could just as easily lead a charge, rapiers in hand, as they would hold a besieged fort. Taking on a master swordsman was as familiar to them as firing volleys into a line of advancing enemy infantry. They could lead soldiers as well as they could follow orders, and their code of honor and chivalry made them tenacious, unwavering, and resolute in combat.

Chrom looked at the special spectator boxes to his left and right; to his left, Khan Flavia and Khan Basilio both shrugged, and to his right, three men in various degrees of armor looked over the arena, apparently discussing the duel. These men were some of the heads of the Federation's military, Captain of the Guard Arnaud Montellier, Sr. Santiago del Santa Fe of the Royal Conquistadors and the Soldados Tercios, and the leader of them all, the Luminaire himself. After a moment, Montellier shook the hand of both of his comrades and took his leave, appearing moments later across the Arena to receive his champion with the rest of the Musketeers at his side. They briefly presented and then ordered arms, then began celebrating this new victory in the name of their organization and their country.

Two matches were left in the day's tournament, but Guardia's victory in this particular tournament seemed certain. Next, Monsieur Montellier himself would battle Khan Flavia; Chrom already saw her making her exit to prepare for the bout. Captain Montellier was standing at the entrance of the wing, his corps' colors flying over his head. Over the elaborately designed rampant and embroidery on the colors was the script, "12é Mousquetaires de la Garde". He stood there, leaning against the wall and simply looking over the arena.

After the bout between Montellier and Flavia, del Santa Fe and Basilio were to conclude the tournament with one of their own. Basilio was renowned for his strength and tenacity in singular combat, but apparently Santa Fe had the strength to match. A story circulated around the arena of a time when he had singlehandedly shattered an assault on a small watchtower overlooking his forward base, exhausting all of his ammunition before waiting at the top of the spiral staircase, pike in hand, for the enemy soldiers to charge in. After an hour, a quick reaction force of Federal Minutemen was on the scene, and they beheld a scene composed of approximately forty dead or incapacitated assailants, and Santa Fe, bloodied and with unrecognizable armor, stood roaring at the top of the staircase, pike in one hand and the enemy's colors in the other…