As the center judge signaled for them to engage once more, Braze remained motionless, his gaze fixed ahead. Ko mirrored his stillness, both of them poised in the tension of anticipation.
"Even if it isn't in the rules... you did well," Braze conceded, though he recognized that this wasn't the time for either commendation or criticism. Ko had asked for a sparring match, not idle chatter.
To succumb to emotions and distractions would only lead Braze into deeper trouble. Ko knew precisely how to exploit the vulnerabilities that lay beneath the surface of the young warrior.
In an effort to disguise his intentions, Braze adopted a facade of Makashi, smooth and elegant while secretly preparing himself for the defensive maneuvers of Soresu, the safest form to embrace in this 'sudden death' scenario.
The judges observed with apparent neutrality, albeit with a hint of curiosity as to why both combatants had paused to engage in what seemed to be a brief conversation.
Braze listened intently as Ko taunted him, deliberately striking a nerve with a bold challenge spoken with soft words of calm, that caused heated feelings to simmer just below the surface. The young warrior was all too aware of Ko's attempt at Dun Moch. The psychological warfare designed to unsettle opponents was all too familiar to the half Echani.
Settling into his stance, Braze contemplated Ko's taunt, shifting his weight gracefully and taking a deliberate step back, then another, and yet a third. As he flourished his blade, it appeared as if he was conceding ground, though it was a calculated move. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air to awaken every muscle in his body. To breath life and energy in to every fiber of his form for what was to come next.
Juyo, the advanced form of lightsaber combat, was traditionally reserved to be taught only to a small group of hand picked students. Reserved and restricted to those of high-level masters of other forms; a pursuit that even a Padawan like Braze had been, should not have been practicing.
However, he had only just stated to glimpse the intricacies of Juyo through the teachings of
Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax
, who had imparted profound wisdom during their brief initial encounters. He had also engaged in fleeting 'lessons' alongside his studies of the formidable
Darth Carnifex
, where the raw intensity of the dark side became a vivid backdrop to his learning.
He had savored the moments spent learning from the beautiful displays of
Thalia Senn
in their sparr together. His brief spar with
Thalia Senn
had been an exquisite treasure, her fluid movements and expert technique leaving an awestruck, indelible mark on his budding understanding of the art.
Additionally, he had absorbed invaluable insights from observing the fierce engagements of both
Aether of the Iron Order
and
Dillon Kai'el
on the battlefield.
To openly challenge Braze in a public lightsaber tournament for the Jedi Order—
especially so soon after his knighthood—was more than playful bravado; it was a gauntlet thrown down with
audacious confidence. For someone like Braze to harbor knowledge of Juyo, let alone practice it in secret, was one thing.
But to stage a live exhibition? To showcase this advanced form amidst the scrutiny of their peers, was an entirely different matter. It was a fearless
dare, one that carried with it the weight of potential failure. Should Braze accept the challenge, he knew there would be no turning back; every spectator would bear witness to the outcome, etching the moment into their memories, and perhaps into the fabric of his reputation as well.
"As... you... wish,"
Braze whispered softly, almost under his breath, before launching forward with a sudden explosion of speed and ferocity. The jagged bursts of a furious flurry erupted from his small form as he unleashed a series of brutal attacks that came sharp and relentless, infused with all the aggressive power of Form V, yet executed with an intensity that felt almost otherworldly.
Braze embraced
Juyo fully, excitement and passion coloring his every move. The acrobatic fury crashed down on Ko like a fulcrum in motion, each strike laced with Ataru-like maneuvering, coupled with Makashi-style precision as he used the full weight of his body to press the elder down, climbing higher only to come down harder.
He came with such force, such violent resolve, that Ko was pushed to the very edge of the ring, where a hard decision awaited him: give Braze the ground… or buckle beneath the ferocious assault.
Braze was no longer shackled, and a slave to form. He had
abandoned Makashi 's finesse—
just as Ko had baited him to—but his Juyo strikes were not wild. They came with confidence. With
absolute commitment. Each blow thundered against Ko's blade with unrelenting force. And despite the swirling tempest of emotion behind those attacks, Braze was the calm at the center of it all.
He was
enthralled, completely consumed by the rhythm of their duel. Every clashing impact of their weapons thrilled him, spurring him forward, driving him to strike faster, harder, more recklessly than the last.
As he forced Ko into the far corner of the ring, Braze executed a brutal disarm. His momentum carried into a harsh elbow driven into Ko's solar plexus, followed by a ruthless downward slash. He spun, blade sweeping back in a horizontal arc—!
—but it never came.
He stopped. Panting. The metaphorical reins wrenched tight in his mind as he maintained control of himself... He held there, breath heaving, then eased from his stance and stepped back.
The silence that followed Braze's restraint was short-lived.
As the cacophony of clashing blades and heavy breaths settled, the judges watched with an intense focus that spoke volumes about their barely concealed surprise and scrutiny at what they witnessed. That hadn't been a display of technique; it was a striking illustration of potential that defied his age and experience, and possibly
tradition.
From the edge of the ring, one of the judges, a tall Ithorian draped in deep green, raised a hand. Two fingers extended. A sharp motion that decisive. The signal:
two points.
After a particularly fierce exchange, Braze had indeed managed to disarm Ko with a swift and calculated maneuver.
A murmur rippled through the observing Knights and Masters. Braze's disarm had been clean, and his follow-through; blunt as it had struck true across Ko's torso. But regulations were clear: no more than two points could be awarded per exchange, regardless of its intensity. And worse...
Another judge, a grizzled Togruta with stern red markings, stepped forward with a raised palm in a halting motion. Her voice cut through the tension like tempered glass.
"Knight Kai'el. You are warned. Excessive force following a decisive maneuver will not be tolerated—regardless of restraint shown after."
A penalty for the reckless escalation.
Braze stood still, catching his breath, jaw tight. The restraint had come too late. Not in the first swing, but in the moment
after. Timing mattered.
Behind the judges, there was more than just protocol in their eyes. It was scrutiny coupled with a sense of unease. Perhaps even the faintest shade of awe.
A fifteen-year-old, newly knighted, had not only wielded
Juyo, the Form of ferocity, but had done so with fluidity and control that rivaled seasoned warriors. That style was
rare for a reason.
Dangerous for a reason. And Braze had danced through it like he'd been born within the storm.
One of the younger Knights in the audience whispered something. Another silenced them with a firm glance. But they had all seen it.
Had Braze not been so composed, it could've ended very differently, and that was
exactly the point.
The match was set to be resumed, but the air had shifted. Not just because of the score… but because of what Braze
revealed.
The judges exchanged glances, their expressions revealing a subtle tension. They understood the impact of their ruling, especially given the circumstances. But now, Braze found himself at a disadvantage, and as the realization settled in, a ripple of murmurs swept through the crowd around their ring.
Recognizing Braze's burgeoning skill, the judges had noted the significant risk of allowing emotions to cloud judgment. With this in mind, one of the judges raised a cautionary finger.
"You must remember the importance of control, young knight. This is a tournament governed by rules; emotions must not dictate your actions here."
Braze's heart sank at the penalty, and a warning for excessive force.
