As promised, here is the new chapter! Short indeed, I concede but extremely fun to write! Some of you will think our dear swordsman is OP after reading the end but I assure you, it's perfectly normal and everything will be explained in chapter 28 (which will be released this year or in January, it'll depend if I have enough inspiration to wrap it up quickly).

Chapter 27

At dawn of the fourth day of their stay, the swordsman woke up with a spring in his step, his body completely refreshed and ready to begin the day. The bowl of fruits and vegetables was slowly emptied as Alex ate its content at a measured speed. He was currently appreciating the taste and flavor of grapes in his mouth, sitting at the table. It was delicious, to say at least, far better than on Earth, even compared to the food cultivated naturally, without any chemical component. Maybe the ground wasn't soiled here or the fact it was infused with magic helped giving a better taste. He hummed in contentment and pleasure.

For now, his first impression on the forest and its inhabitants was almost perfect. Even if he had spent all his life in a city, taking some time in a place this was very good for his mind. During the last few days, the swordsman spent all his time in the library, his brain overwhelmed by how much knowledge was stored in one place. So many words could be used to describe it and Alex didn't know which one to use. Paradise could be the most appropriate one. It was even more beautiful than the National Library of Prague or the Long Room in Dublin.

The library was magically carved inside a giant tree, with stairs leading to the upper floors. It was naturally lit by numerous open windows and an entire ecosystem was living inside with bird nests, climbing ivy, flowers, moss and even mushrooms in a dark corner of the place, a little more humid than the rest of the building.

Alex managed to finish the Domia abr Wyrda quickly. The history of Alagaësia was so fascinating and detailed he couldn't keep his eyes off the book. He had already read a good part at Jeod's and when they were in Tronjheim so he only needed a good day and half to absorb the rest of the book's content. But unfortunately, to his dismay, a majority of the knowledge present in the room was written in Liduen Kvaedhi, the written form used by the elves for the Ancient Language. The book manager was kind enough to lend him the necessary scrolls, dictionaries and books to learn the special script. Even if the task by itself was slow and unpleasing, the young adult knew he was obliged to go through this if he wanted to learn more about this world's history and culture.

Finishing his breakfast, he dressed quickly, only wearing a plain t-shirt and trousers before strapping his broadsword on his back.

A few minute walk led him to the training ground, where elves of both sexes were fighting in group or in a duel. Thanks to their physical strength and their speeds, the hits were raining and resonating. In a way, for those passionate about fighting, it was a beautiful and interesting thing to see. But what caught the ambassador's eyes was a trio, a little apart from the rest, composed of an elf with black hair, Eragon and Saphira. The former two were currently engaged in a battle, he deduced it was certainly a part of the Rider's training.

Walking to them, Alex saw the mysterious elf twist Eragon's wrist to force him to drop Zar'roc or try resisting, knowing it would be useless because of the gap in power between the two of them. Then, the elf put the end of his blade against Eragon's neck and said: "You're dead."

Eragon ignored him and limped to where Zar'roc had landed.

"You are dead." He repeated. "This is how you're going to defeat Galbatorix? I expected more, even from a weakling human."

"In that case Vanir, why don't you fight Galbatorix and the Empire yourself instead of hiding in the Du Weldenvarden?"

"Simply because I'm not a Rider. And if I was one, I wouldn't be a coward like you."

Around them, everything was perfectly silent. No one dared to say a word or move. Picking up his sword, Eragon tried his best to keep his cool and not let his anger get the best of him. In the corner of his eye, he noticed the presence of his friend, observing the scene with his arms crossed and no emotion on his face. At least, Saphira wasn't the only one on his side and present on the training ground.

"A coward! Your blood is as poor as the rest of your specie. I think Galbatorix manipulated Saphira's mind and she choose the wrong Rider, a bad example to represent the humans. It's sheer luck that made you a Rider and gave you the chance to kill Durza. You're weak!"

However, before the ex-farmer could turn around and hit Vanir, a hand stopped him. Looking up, he saw Alex looking at him with a small smile, then nodding before walking to the elf. The sound of a blade unsheathing reached his ears.

"Watch your tongue, child." Said the brown-haired man, his tone cold as ice. There was a threatening aura in his eyes. "I think your breach of etiquette is more than enough for today. Yet, if you're out for blood or someone to release your frustration upon, I'll gladly be your victim."

The declaration took Vanir and everyone else by surprise. "This does not concern you Ambassador; this boy has to learn what is asked of him and the others' expectations. I can't help but be a little insulted that you consider me a child while I'm far older than you."

"Eragon's burden is already heavy and he don't need everyone to remind him his task. For me, you're nothing more than an infant because you know nothing of the outside world, you never fought someone who wanted to end your life, you never killed and were never trained with the aim to pierce your opponent's heart. Risking everything on a move that could lead you to victory or death. I'm going to show you how much of a difference it makes between you and I. En garde!"

Vanir barely had the time to take his stance that the swordsman was on him, unleashing a barrage of attacks. He managed to stop them all but barely. Fear invaded his eyes for an instant when he realized Alex's broadsword wasn't magically guarded and could kill him if he wasn't careful enough. The young adult was giving his all at every moment, in every movement or hit. One moment, their noses were almost touching and the second after, they were at the edge of the circle that had formed around them. There was a fury, a ferocity in his almond eyes. May it be by luck or thanks to his reflexes, he stopped the majority of the combos and evaded his rival's blade when it was too close to him but a few hits touched their intended targets. The elf was still far superior to him in speed and power but his experience on the battlefield and in a duel against physically/magically enhanced creature were helpful enough to have things even between Vanir and him for now.

Even if he didn't show it, the dark haired elf was surprised to see a human almost keeping up to him. The look in his eyes was one of a killer, of someone who murdered in cold blood and went through many dangerous situations. Alex used every trick, parade, strategy and combo he knew of, even changing his fighting style repeatedly during a series of movements, to destabilize his enemy long enough to gain the upper hand on him but it didn't work. Whatever he tried; it was never enough. Minutes had turned into a dozen of them, then an hour. Despite the evident fatigue on his face, his ragged breath, the sweat flowing down his cheeks and his arms trembling wildly, the young man didn't show any sign of giving up.

Vanir was faring better but there were also beads of sweat on his forehead and around his eyes. His breathing was calmer than Alex's, more composed but still a little faster than normal. There were a few cuts on his body, here and there, oozing blood but not enough to be worrying. In the swordsman's case, he had bruises all over him and was limping slightly, the left part of his femoral neck hurting him because of a hit on it.

What happened next ended to be a big mistake for the young man who jumped, his sword raised high for a vertical slash and landed badly, on his injured leg. His opponent dashed to the side to evade the blow and took the opportunity the human had created to confront him in a direct clash of strength, sword against sword. Numerous sparks appeared for a moment and a small gust of wind had kicked up from the raw intensity of the impact between the two blades.

Alex's eyes widened as he understood he was in a dangerous position, his foe had the upper hand, metaphorically and literally, as he was standing above him. Both of his hands on the hilt of his broadsword, his jaw clenched, he was doing everything in his power to keep the elf at bay. Fortunately, after correcting the way he landed before the clash, the adult with almond hair was actually standing with his right leg and his left knee on the ground so the majority of his weight was on the good leg. Knowing he couldn't hold on much longer, the swordsman pushed back with all his might, ever so slowly rising up. Foam was rapidly forming at the corner of his mouth, the veins on his temples bulged, his whole face red like a tomato, hot tears and grunts of pain were coming out as he endured the signals coming from the effort exerted on his femoral neck. He knew if he kept this position for too long, it would result in a fracture and a loss.

Probably for the first time in his life, Vanir felt real fear seize his body. Never had he encountered someone with so much fight in him. This human could never have his physical prowess or speed but he would be damned if he wasn't trying his best to be his equal by compensating with his knowledge on the art of the sword and his determination. Yet, a red flag went off in the fighter's mind when the swordsman vented out his emotions with a yell and he was violently pushed back a few meters away, barely keeping his balance and restraining himself from falling on the ground.

There was a gasp of shock in the group circling them. His brain couldn't process what Alex managed to do. He had bested him in terms of raw power for a short instant! But how? How could a simple human, not even infused with Alagaësian magic achieve such a feat? However, the swordsman didn't follow with an assault, he was staying in place, leaning slightly forward, breathing loudly and rapidly, now every part of his body was trembling and his eyes were glued on Vanir. Everyone on the training ground could see he wouldn't last long.

«But I still have enough energy for one last trick. »

In a flash, Alex reached for his combat knife with his right hand and launched it with all his remaining strength, aiming for Vanir's head. The young man caught his chance and rushed just after sending his knife. The elf stopped the weapon's course with his sword, bending slightly his hand exactly the way how Alex wanted, but the distraction was enough to leave a window wide open in his guard. Using the same technique as against Brom, he manipulated Vanir's hand by doing a few movements, forcing him to twist his wrist in a strange way and drop his weapon to the ground. He then put the end of his broadsword against the elf's neck.

"Git gud."

The second after, he dropped his weapon and fell to the ground, barely conscious. Eragon rushed to his friend, shaking him and saying his name. Without any hesitation, he began healing the wounds and replenished his energy, Saphira sharing her strength gladly. Despite this, Alex still felt exhausted, far worse than during the hardest moments of his training. He could barely move his eyes, and even less talk. He saw Eragon's mouth moving but the words didn't reach his ears, his thoughts were sluggish and incoherent. Finally, the swordsman closed his eyes, too tired to keep them open and fainted.