Given a bit more context, Joshua could puzzle it out, but he will need to learn of Harbard's own bakery employment before he can put it together. He plans to ask Dion about the halberd later, and perhaps then the pieces will fall into place.
For now, he has a fight to focus on. And focus he must, for as he well knows, fighting Barnabas requires his best. More than his best, probably, but at least here the stakes are much lower. Should Joshua lose, no one else will suffer for it.
He throws up a magical shield to deflect the darkness, and from there, there's no more time for pondering. He keeps his distance from Barnabas as best he can, relying far more on his flames than the sword in his hand. His opposition is much more impressive than it was when they fought at sea, and not only because of the lower stakes. For one thing, he hasn't been exhausting himself and his resources constantly since he arrived, which could not be said of him during their travels in Valisthea. And beyond that, he has felt just a bit less chest-crushing agony from the scarring wound there than he's used to. One supposes that Ultima removing himself from confinement could only have been to Joshua's benefit, if somehow he could have put the act's lethality aside. Now that his inner reserves are no longer bent on keeping Ultima contained, they can be put to use sustaining him instead.
And perhaps his pride's injury pushes him to prove himself, a bit. Just a bit.
It's not long before the challenge forces him to dig deeper and semi-prime to keep up. Sparkling fire practically consumes the training grounds, its heat and radiance more than noticeable well beyond the area's boundaries - noticeable, at least, wherever the suffocating darkness doesn't snuff them out.
Eventually, as was inevitable, Joshua tires. A well-timed blow from the king knocks him to the ground, and just as he's pushing himself back to his feet, his lungs betray him. On his hands and knees, he can do nothing but endure until the coughing fit has passed, and in the meantime the Phoenix subsides and the ground beneath him stains with his blood. Should Barnabas wish to finish him off, he's certainly presenting a tempting opportunity - but he refuses to die with his head bowed. The moment he can breathe again, he lifts it to meet the king's steely gaze without fear or surrender, even as he catches his breath.
Even as well as Joshua fought, Barnabas proved his dominance. Again.
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For now, he has a fight to focus on. And focus he must, for as he well knows, fighting Barnabas requires his best. More than his best, probably, but at least here the stakes are much lower. Should Joshua lose, no one else will suffer for it.
He throws up a magical shield to deflect the darkness, and from there, there's no more time for pondering. He keeps his distance from Barnabas as best he can, relying far more on his flames than the sword in his hand. His opposition is much more impressive than it was when they fought at sea, and not only because of the lower stakes. For one thing, he hasn't been exhausting himself and his resources constantly since he arrived, which could not be said of him during their travels in Valisthea. And beyond that, he has felt just a bit less chest-crushing agony from the scarring wound there than he's used to. One supposes that Ultima removing himself from confinement could only have been to Joshua's benefit, if somehow he could have put the act's lethality aside. Now that his inner reserves are no longer bent on keeping Ultima contained, they can be put to use sustaining him instead.
And perhaps his pride's injury pushes him to prove himself, a bit. Just a bit.
It's not long before the challenge forces him to dig deeper and semi-prime to keep up. Sparkling fire practically consumes the training grounds, its heat and radiance more than noticeable well beyond the area's boundaries - noticeable, at least, wherever the suffocating darkness doesn't snuff them out.
Eventually, as was inevitable, Joshua tires. A well-timed blow from the king knocks him to the ground, and just as he's pushing himself back to his feet, his lungs betray him. On his hands and knees, he can do nothing but endure until the coughing fit has passed, and in the meantime the Phoenix subsides and the ground beneath him stains with his blood. Should Barnabas wish to finish him off, he's certainly presenting a tempting opportunity - but he refuses to die with his head bowed. The moment he can breathe again, he lifts it to meet the king's steely gaze without fear or surrender, even as he catches his breath.
Even as well as Joshua fought, Barnabas proved his dominance. Again.