Kenji stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching the sparring ogres with a mixture of fascination and resolve. The wooden training dummies lined up in rows bore the scars of countless blows, their surfaces chipped and dented. The air was thick with the sound of grunts, the clash of weapons, and the encouraging shouts of the combat instructor, an imposing ogre named Ghorak.

  “Focus, cub!” Ghorak barked, pointing his wooden cudgel at Kenji. His voice was gruff but not unkind. “Strength without control is nothing but wasted potential. You aim to protect this village? Then learn discipline!”

  Kenji nodded, gripping the small wooden sword he’d been given. It was crude, heavy for his size, but it felt oddly reassuring in his hands.

  He had been training under Ghorak for weeks now. The lessons were harsh but invaluable, pushing Kenji to his limits and beyond. Each session honed his instincts, sharpening the edge of his resolve. Despite his small stature and young age, Kenji showed a natural aptitude for combat.

  “Again!” Ghorak ordered, his tusks gleaming as he stepped into a defensive stance.

  Kenji lunged forward, his movements precise but not yet fluid. He aimed for Ghorak’s side, but the ogre parried easily, sending Kenji stumbling back.

  “Too predictable!” Ghorak roared. “Read your opponent, boy. Learn to anticipate, or you will never survive.”

  Kenji gritted his teeth, the frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. He wasn’t used to failure—not in this way. In his past life, everything had been calculated and planned out. But here, the stakes were real. Every mistake could mean death, not just for him but for those he cared about.

  A Sudden Challenge

  As the training session continued, a group of younger ogres gathered to watch. Among them was Rogath, a burly teenager with a sour expression. Kenji had noticed Rogath’s disdain before—the way his eyes narrowed whenever Kenji spoke with the queen or sparred with Ghorak.

  “What’s so special about him?” Rogath muttered loudly, his voice dripping with contempt. “He’s just a runt. A human runt.”

  Kenji froze mid-swing, his grip tightening on the wooden sword.

  Ghorak’s gaze snapped to Rogath, his expression darkening. “Watch your tongue, boy,” he warned.

  But Rogath sneered, stepping forward. “Why should I? He doesn’t belong here. He is weak. He will bring nothing but trouble to the village.”

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  Kenji met Rogath’s glare, his blue eyes cold and steady. “If you think I’m weak,” he said quietly, “why don’t you prove it?”

  The gathered ogres murmured in surprise, a few of them smirking at the bold challenge. Rogath’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of anger and anticipation.

  “Fine,” Rogath growled, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s see what you’ve got, human.”

  The Duel

  The crowd formed a rough circle around the two combatants, the air buzzing with tension. Ghorak stood at the edge, his arms crossed, ready to intervene if things got out of hand.

  Kenji stepped forward, gripping his sword tightly. He knew this wasn’t just about defending himself—it was about earning the respect of the villagers, proving his worth to the ogres who still doubted him.

  Rogath charged first, his massive frame barreling toward Kenji like a freight train. Kenji sidestepped at the last moment, his smaller size giving him an advantage in agility. He swung his sword, aiming for Rogath’s side, but the ogre was faster than he looked. Rogath spun, deflecting the blow with his forearm before retaliating with a heavy punch.

  Kenji barely dodged, the wind from the strike brushing his face. He stumbled back, his mind racing. Rogath’s strength was overwhelming, but it wasn’t unbeatable.

  Kenji told himself.

  Rogath came at him again, this time feinting with his left before swinging his right fist. Kenji dropped to the ground, sliding beneath the ogre’s legs and delivering a sharp strike to the back of his knee. Rogath roared in pain, stumbling forward.

  The crowd erupted in cheers and gasps, the younger ogres watching in disbelief as the human child held his own.

  A Turning Point

  Kenji pressed his advantage, darting around Rogath and landing quick, precise blows to his arms and legs. Each strike chipped away at the larger ogre’s stamina, forcing him to slow down.

  But Rogath wasn’t done yet. With a furious roar, he grabbed a nearby wooden pole and swung it in a wide arc. Kenji barely managed to duck, the pole whistling over his head.

  The force of the swing left Rogath open, and Kenji seized the moment. He lunged forward, slamming the hilt of his sword into the ogre’s gut. Rogath collapsed to his knees, gasping for air.

  Kenji stepped back, his chest heaving. He didn’t raise his sword for a finishing blow—this was not about humiliation or revenge. It was about proving that he belonged.

  The circle of ogres fell silent, their expressions a mix of awe and respect. Even Rogath, still on his knees, looked up at Kenji with a grudging nod.

  Respect Earned

  Ghorak stepped forward, clapping his hands once to break the tension. “Enough,” he said. “The duel is over.”

  He turned to the gathered crowd, his voice booming. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. Strength isn’t just about size or power. It is about skill, determination, and the will to fight for what matters. Kenji has all those things—and more.”

  The crowd dispersed slowly, the murmurs of conversation fading as the ogres returned to their tasks. Rogath stood, brushing himself off. He glanced at Kenji, his expression unreadable.

  “You’re not bad,” he muttered before walking away.

  Kenji watched him go, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He had taken another step forward—earned another piece of respect.

  As Ghorak clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder, Kenji felt a flicker of pride. But deep down, he knew this was only the beginning.

  There were bigger challenges ahead—challenges that would test him in ways he could not yet imagine.

  And he would be ready.