Not much to say here, but I guess: Here's the next chapter! Is that right? Yeah, I think it's right...

Chapter 9:

Dual Wielder

The teens were lined up along the arena wall; their dragons on the other side. Snotlout was in front of them, pacing from side to side as he rambled. Sigurd sighed heavily and rolled his eyes as the man passed him. He glanced over to his friends to see how they were holding and spotted Bjorn shivering. He kept a firm gaze on him to see what was wrong; Bjorn's eyes were locked fearfully on Snotlout as he gulped in all the information that was thrown at the poor teen. Sigurd knew that Bjorn was afraid of his father because he thought of himself as a disgrace. You see, Bjorn is the kind and caring type; he doesn't like to be pushed to be better than others, especially his friends. Sigurd also knew that Bjorn respected him because he thought Sigurd could stand up to anyone and be right. While Sigurd thought the opposite. Sigurd found it quite sad to know that Snotlout was willing to push his son to be like him, that he wouldn't care that his own son is scared of him. Whenever Snotlout is near the teen, he starts to break down and what's worse is that Snotlout wants the boy to do everything he did. The teen had no say in his life at the moment, which angered Sigurd.

Snotlout was in charge of teaching the teens how to fight and use self-defence when their dragons weren't able to assist them. To put it shortly, it was combat training. However stupid the man was, he did know how to fight. So, he was teaching them. "The first step in learning how to fight is picking your weapon. It varies on the person and their 'fighting style'. For example I use the hammer." He lifted his weapon into the air. Everyone stared at it, silently praying not to get on the receiving end of the hammer. "Now, I have prepared a barrel full of different weapons. I want you to choose which one you think is best suited to you-" he paused to let everyone take in the information, "and then your going to take on me." He smugly pointed his thumb towards himself.

One at a time the teen's picked out a weapon, but not from the barrel. Freya had her axe strapped to her back, while Bjorn was given a hammer by his father. Egil had no weapon, so chose to take a spire from the barrel. Hel and Hal had matching swords- probably from their father and aunt. Sigurd had made himself two double bladed swords. He had two straps around him, making a 'X' form on his chest and both swords were sheathed in the hilts on his back. "Now, who's gonna go first?" Snotlout sneered. The teens eyed each other, seeing who had the guts to face Snotlout. Determination filled Egil's features as he pushed his glasses to perch on his nose; he stepped forward, crouching his knees and letting the spire fall on its side as he had the back of it gently brush against his back.

Snotlout got into a fighting stance and a smirk stretched against his face, "the challenger always makes the first move." He taunted. Egil's eyebrows furrowed and he let out a battle cry as he sprang towards the older man. Snotlout simply dodged the attack and swung his hammer into the teen's back. Egil went flying into the wall. "Who's next?" The twins glanced at each other and bumped fists, as they raised their swords and sprinted in opposite directions to their opponent. Snotlout rushed to the male twin on his left and as the sword was coming down on him, he ducked and knocked the teen over by aiming his hammer at the boy's legs. Then, as the sister came rushing towards him, he threw his hammer to the side. The female twin looked bewildered as the weapon clattered on the ground. For her brief moment of distraction, the man lowered his head and snorted as he rammed into the girl's stomach with his helmet; the teen got the wind knocked out of her as she fell to the ground.

Freya twirled her axe between her fingers, as she stepped in front of Snotlout. His smirk faltered for only a moment before it was replaced with cracking grin. As Freya got into her fighting stance, Egil and the twins limped towards the edge; while Bjorn and Sigurd watching the intense staring war. A heartbeat later Freya ran, not to her opponent, but the other way. Snotlout looked taken aback as Freya suddenly jumped off the wall and propelled herself, axe raised, towards her teacher. The man quickly stumbled out of the way as the axe crashed to the floor. The Haddock twisted around and swung her axe close to the man's face. The Jorrgenson flung his hammer to Freya, knocking her weapon and sending her tumbling to floor. "Nice try," he breathed. The young teen picked herself up and scowled at the man, "that axe was made by my father, next time be careful what you whack!" she hissed and turned to leave.

Bjorn lifted his hammer and walked to his father's line of sight. He inhaled and exhaled slowly as he fiddled to get a good grip on the handle. Snotlout raised an eyebrow, while lifting his weapon to rest on his shoulder. Bjorn furrowed his eyebrows and locked his gaze on his target. Crouching, he got ready to take off. Springing into action, Bjorn jumped and glided- more like fell- towards his prey. He smashed his hammer on his father's foot; a hiss escaped the older man's throat. A smile slipped onto the son's face as he brought the weapon up and swung. Snotlout grapped the hilt and flung it to the side- the boy still attached.

Sigurd helped the bundle of mess to stand, "you held on quite well." His praise brought a smile to the teen. "Beat my dad for me?" a nod was the only response given. Sigurd reached behind him and unsheathed one sword, he gripped the hilt with his hands as his eyes scanned his opponent. Instead of running in, the boy taunted his teacher to make the first move. Of course, he obliged and charged in cockily. Sigurd dodged to the side and stabbed the butt of his hilt into his mentor's back, sending him toppling over. Frustrated, Snotlout got up and rushed towards the boy; he swung his hammer around wildly. Sigurd kept dodging and blocked the hammer. Stuck, he unsheathed his second sword and flipped it so the blade was behind him. He pushed the sword so it graced the side of Snotlout's face and he stumbled back clutching the bleeding wound. Sigurd took the chance to weave around the man and cross his swords- in an 'X' formation- over his teacher's throat. Snotlout's breath hitched in his throat as the blade glinted in the sunlight. The teen relaxed and dropped his swords, so they feel loosely to his side. He then sheathed them as Snotlout tried to recompose himself.

"That's it for today's lesson, Sigurd wins."

I'm glad I thought of this, because we haven't had a lot of action for a while. It did get a little quick at the end because I didn't want this chapter to be very long. What do you think so far and what do you hope to see in future chapters? Anyway, please review, follow and favourite for more chapters.

-Draco