The Story Of Us

A Different Type

And if you haven't guessed the pattern, we're back nine centuries ago! Enjoy~

Oh, by the way, she's thirteen now. I mean, you guys are fourteen now? I don't know. Y/N is.

(Y/N POV)

I could have rolled over laughing at the image in my mind. The image of all these knights lying on the floor, groaning in despair because of their wounded pride of having been defeated by a girl.

Like I said, it's a very amusing image.

The fact alone that a girl dared suggesting a spar with the one and only Lancelot, was enough to bring all knights to tears with laughter. So, I have made it my personal mission to make sure they will regret ever having dreamed of underestimating me.

My staff by my side, steel hard under my hardening fist. The other piece of that staff was hard underneath my hand as well, being in my left hand, as well as in my right. A clever invention I suppose you could say, making one weapon being able to turn into multiple.

The knights in front of me chuckled, facing one of the younger ones they considered worthy. He was a feeble person, and very incompetent. He gloated being able to defeat a stable boy half his size and dared call it victory and honor. Of course the knights weren't pleased by this either, but what could they have done? Reprimand him? Slaughter him? Punish him? None of this was fit for a Knight, and unless this story was completely heard out, the people wouldn't be in favor of his punishment.

So, from then on, the story was just dropped. He was an unfit and improper man, and I for one will rather enjoy to beat his arse in front of everyone. King Arthur chose to watch, of which I have no idea as to why. I suppose it is to watch me fail, and run into his arms in pity. But I wouldn't fail. I was better trained than any of these, and I dare say even better than Lancelot.

The cocky man in front of me was named Sir. Garthor, but in my mind, he had in no way gained that title.

He drawled his sword, a dull thing, and in clear need of sharpening. What an imbecile. Rolling my eyes, I take both of my smaller staffs, and slam them together, creating a large, long staff made of steel. Before turning each the opposite way, causing spikes to shoot out of the ends, creating a spear of sorts, only with a pointy, deadly tip at both ends.

The look on Garthor's face was rather amusing, seeing him looking dumbfounded at me. I charge with a cry, slamming one pointy end into the ground, stepping off ground, and slamming both my feet into his chest, causing him to lose balance, fall harshly a few feet away from me.

I stand straight again, crouching down, having un-stuck my double spear, and circling it threateningly in the air. Before charging again.

I jab him a few times into his iron armor on purpose, not allowed to actually harm him. He let out scared noise, such as pathetic whimpers and cries. I groan, kicking his sword out of his hands, and hitting him hard across the face with my spear.

He falls to the ground, and I advance in fast, large steps. I use my spear and bang it against his plated chest, huffing out a. "If you would be my enemy, you would've been dead." I hadn't broken a sweat in that escapade, taking my spear again, undoing the spear points, and putting them back in two again. I put both on my holders on my back again, before rolling my eyes, and helping him up.

Letting go of his hand as quickly as I held it. All he did, was growl at me, before scurrying off.

This continued for a LONG while. All knights on the floor, groaning. There was only one left to defeat, and that was Lancelot. But unlike all those who did nothing but give me a warm up, Lancelot was a big deal, if I took him down, I would be respected as more than just a maiden. But if I didn't, all the progress for respect would be demolished.