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“You have to parry young Midoriya!” the All-Knight shouted as the destructive shink of metal hitting metal sent sparks flying in the training arena. It’s followed by a heavy thud as Izuku’s back hits the packed-in dirt and his shield gets tossed somewhere off where he can’t reach. He still has his vice grip on the haft of his sword, but his hand his searing in pain from blocking that last blow.
“Get up Deku!” Bakugo shouted as he swung his war hammer down, aiming for Izuku’s skull. The green-haired knight rolled out of the way just as the hammer slammed a cloud of dust in its wake. He spared a panicked look to his shield, belly-up and useless halfway across the yard. Bakugo reeled back for another swing, and before Midoriya can react his sword is up to block, taking most of the damage from the probably lethal force. Izuku cringes as pain shoots down his arm again.
“Good job young Midoriya!” The Knight-Captain watched the two train from his place in the stands, hands heroically on his hips and infectious smile blazing bright. Shouta was sitting at his side, trying his damndest to pay attention.
“We should have saved the heavy armor training for next month.” Shota deadpans as another yelp echoes from the training area. “Bakugo, when you swing with your hips you have to plant your feet!” There isn’t a response, but his next volley of violence at Midoriya is much more efficient than before.
Midoriya ducks the metal weight and tosses himself into a roll to get over to his shield. It gives him an opportunity to read the battlefield as Bakugo recovers from the weight of swinging that hammer. Katsuki wouldn’t be able to keep going with those heavy attacks for long, he’d have to start getting more desperate if the was going into a war of attrition. But Izuku didn’t know if he’d be able to keep up either if he has to block a few more of those heavy hits he doesn’t think he’ll be able to hold his sword anymore. They both are left to breathe for a moment as Katsuki’s weapon lowers into a defensive position and he steps into a more mobile stance, kicking up more dust into the air. Izuku readies himself for a preemptive strike but the warhammer begins to crackle and spit with fire, the silver metal going red hot around the outline of its enchantments until the whole head is glowing a threatening orange.
Shit, there’s no way to directly attack now. Izuku is getting tired, the muscles in his back and shoulders are burning with overexertion and he can barely hoist his shield high enough to block his waist. He doesn’t want to use his power, not in a training session like this, but the longer it went on, the more he realized Katsuki wouldn’t give him that choice. He scrambles into his own version of a defensive position, hiding behind his shield in preparation for the next blow.
Bakugo’s eyes are fiery with rage and contempt, but his movements are measured and his reels back and rushes forward at Midoriya, hammer coiling back for another strike. The shield goes up, but it’s almost useless as the heat causes it to crumple and seize behind Bakugo’s massive force and Midoriya if forced to drop it, falling to his side.
Katsuki doesn’t take a second to lose, reeling back for a final swing, but as the hammer comes down, there’s a rush of hair and the head of the warhammer falls away split into by the edge of Midoriya’s now glowing sword.
Midoriya is crouched beneath the remains of Bakugo’s warhammer, holding his sword above him like a trophy. The sword’s enchantments glow a blinding white, making it look much longer than it actually ways. The light around the sword bends, bowing the color surrounding it. The powerful magic is draining Izuku even as he holds it up, and sweat beads on his forehead as his hand shakes with the strain.
Toshinori is impressed, to use the sword’s enchantments like that is a definite improvement than before. However, at the risk of showing favoritism, he hides his excitement. And folds his arms across his chest.
“Why didn’t you do that EARLIER!” Katsuki shouted. “You trying to go easy on me deku?!” He waved the broken handle of his hammer in Midoriya’s face, getting dangerously close to clocking him in the head with it. Midoriya was too tired to care, collapsing on one knee to rest. His sword hand was still in the air, an accidental gesture of triumph.
“Midoriya has disarmed his opponent. That’s match.” Shota stands up from his seat and strides past the All-Knight, heading down to greet the boys. Midoriya’s sword hand finally drops to his side, sending the arms clamoring in the hard dirt. The enchantments go dark, and the blinding light subsides. The All-Knight tailed him from behind making sure to keep his poker face in place.
“WHAT?!” Bakugo shouts, waving around the handle of his now useless warhammer like a pinata bat. The handle spurted a fine cloud of sparks but failed to light itself again. He looks back to the beleaguered Izuku, and Shota could see in his eyes he was debating on whether or not to get in one last defiant strike in.
“Midoriya won this sparring match today Bakugo. You’re dismissed.” Shota stepped into the ring, and despite his incessant grumbling and protests, Bakugo left the yard.
“Good job today Izuku,” Shota says, offering a hand to help the young man up. Izuku takes is eagerly and staggers to his feet. His eyes are distant and unfocusing and Shota can’t help but chuckle. “Tomorrow is more sparring, I suggest you don’t use that sword trick again. It’s power isn’t going to help you if you collapse every time you use it.”
The boy nodded, and Shota wasn’t sure if he could even comprehend what he was saying. “You’re dismissed Midoriya.”
“And good luck tomorrow!” The All-Knight chimed.