The blade struck hard against the shield, but Jezin's grip held. The man was resilient, but he was beginning to slip up. As soon as the sound of metal on metal rang out over the fairgrounds, Jezin swung a swift kick towards his opponent's stomach. The kick was more than strong enough to put the man on his back, and the metal boot on Jezin's foot likely would leave a nasty bruise. If he could get his opponent on the ground he could get him to yield. Hopefully. He had no intention of killing anyone at the melee. Regardless of the rules, a foreigner likely would be chastised for taking a life in the king's tournament.

Sophia looked briefly to the woman beside her. "Pleased to meet you Lexine. I'm Sophia Octavia." She gave a brief smile. The woman likely already knew who she was, but it was polite to introduce oneself regardless. As she watched the fight, Gareth returned to his seat. "Oh, Gareth, welcome back!" She smiled slightly, but her eyes seemed locked on the fight. She knew Jezin had it in him to win the bout, but the other man seemed quite determined.

Jon could more or less hear the boot coming, as well as he it. As he saw the kick coming to his exposed stomach, he dropped his sword, and bent down slightly. The kick slammed into Jon's chest, instead of his weaker stomach. It hurt. It definitely hurt. But once more, it wouldn't kill Jon, and Jon knew that. Jon gripped the knight's knee, with both hands, his years of plowing and picking potatoes out of the ground showing with his immense grip, leaving him still standing upright. Jon wasn't about to go down on his back. As he gripped the knight's leathered knee with his bare hands. He attempted to swivel his hips, in order to throw Jezin into the ground.

"Ah, thank you. Who was that?" Gareth questioned Sophia about the lady who just left them, whom he swore that saw with Karl before. Whatever was on the field stopped concerning him once he began to speak with Sophia, and he faced her fully. And even if it did, he would honestly rather watch Thomas in combat, as Thomas was more important to him than the two on field whom he'd never spoken to. Still, that illustrious woman that departed from Sophia caught his eye. Perhaps she was a sophisticated upper class lady.

Jezin felt the man catch him by the knee. It was an interesting move, there was no way he would free his leg, but the man had just made a fatal mistake. He was now unarmed. In an instant the bodyguard released both his shield and spear. The armaments clanked as they dropped to to the ground. Jezin reached forward with his left hand, grabbing the man by the shoulder and desperately trying to hold himself up against the man's strength. In a flash, his right hand flew to his side. For a brief moment, light shimmered on a short blade. Before the man could blink, Jezin had produced his dagger. The tip of it's short, triangular blade was now pressed against Jon's exposed throat. The blade was sharp enough that the slightest move at this point would pierce the man's jugular. Jezin looked into his eyes. "You fought well, now yield."

Sophia looked towards the young man. "Her name is Lexine Tristan. She said she was looking for Karl." She figured Gareth knew Karl rather well, as they had been sitting together at the feast. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jezin drop his spear and pull his dagger. She held her breath.

"Oh, I see." Gareth saw Sophia's eyes look elsewhere for a split second, and his blues followed her gaze to the field, spotting a deadlocked man taken down by her escort. It seemed Sophia's escort succeeded in subduing the other man, but Gareth did not intuit celebration from Sophia, he felt suspense. Harker furrowed his brow and took a hand to his chin, analyzing what could be the fight's final moments.

As soon as Jezin began to drop his gear, Jon released hold on the man's knee, pushing forward as he did so. In a fairly sloppy roll, Jon dodged to the side, grabbing his sword as he did so. If Jezin was planning on turning this into a grappling fest, Jon wasn't going to participate. While Jon probably had more strength, he didn't have armor, nor did he have any secondary weapons. Jon back stepped, holding his sword as he did so, putting distance between him and Jezin. Jon was waiting for his opponent to pick his gear back up before attacking. While Jon wasn't one to hold up honorable combat as a way of fighting, he wasn't going to fight a knight if he was unarmed. He wanted his best against the knight's best. He wanted to prove he didn't have to fight dirty to beat anyone.

The crowd on foot had proven difficult to negotiate, and even less populated with useful sources. The majority of them weren't affiliated with the court, but that was to be expected considering they were the foot crowd. She shook her head, and momentarily reached for coat pockets that simply weren't there on the white shirt. An utterly exasperating experience, working here. Although, a man so damn reluctant fit the court of this country just fine, she figured. Ultimately, only one part of much larger design. Thankfully, a semi-familiar face soon emerged from the crowd. Some royal guard, Order of the Thistle, big name here in the Keilaudrin. Kingsblood something, Morgan. It amazed her how well she managed to keep track of the orders and houses of the south, growing up there probably helped train that in. She approached Thomas out of the crowd, what little space the man had around him. The fight was still in full swing on the runway, which was surprising in a way. It was the end of her route anyway, in a few minutes the two in ties would be meeting at the palace gates. She decided to stop for the moment. "Good work in the joust, I don't suppose you'll be entering the melee as well?" She asked, beginning the slow work towards asking if the man had seen Leid at all that morning.

Jezin's eyes narrowed as the man pushed away. It seemed the fight wouldn't end so easily. He watched as his opponent backed away from him. Though Jon meant to wait for him to recover his equipment, the bodyguard mistook this honorable action as waiting for an opening. He wouldn't kneel down for his weapons, it'd leave him unguarded. The Lyoki soldier tossed his dagger into his left hand and reached for his belt with his right. His hand gripped the ivory hilt at his waist and drew his sword. The curved blade shimmered in the sunlight. Jezin twirled the blade around quickly in a flourish and took a step forward. While being without his spear was a bit of a hindrance, switching fighting styles mid fight would hopefully throw off his opponent. The bodyguard watched Jon carefully, slowly striding towards him. He continued twirling the weapon about in an almost dance-like fashion. The movements were almost mesmerizing. "Don't say I didn't warn you." As soon as the words left his mouth he struck quickly with a swift slash towards his opponent's sword hand. He kept the dagger back, ready to strike.

Sophia released her breath and frowned a bit when the man escaped. She had faith in Jezin, but the other man clearly had no intention of giving up any time soon. She glanced back to Gareth, trying to think of something to talk to him about. She remembered seeing him run off after Sir Thomas. "So, you know Sir Thomas?" Her voice still maintained it's musical quality, even though the fight was beginning to cause her some stress. "I met him when we arrived, he was quite helpful."

Thomas was taken aback by the sudden conversation from the woman approaching him. Thomas turned to respond to her, "I'm sorry, I don't quite know your name." Thomas replied, instead of answering the woman's question. Thomas had to pry his eyes away from the fight between Jezin, and the other man that Thomas had never seen before. The fight was starting to look good, and the ragged looking man seemed to be giving Jezin a run for his money. Thomas could tell, though, that it was due to the unconventional style in which the man fought, but if you know your opponent would beat you in a straight up fight, it would be smartest to fight asymmetrically. Watching fighting only made Thomas hungrier to actually fight himself.

Jon was able to lift his sword up, to block the incoming slash, but he wasn't nearly trained enough, nor strong enough, to grip the sword well enough to keep it from flying out of his grip. While he had blocked the attack from Jezin, he was no left unarmed, his sword nearly a ways away from the pair of them. Jon puffed his chest out, and his visage became stony, as if he had a new found type of determination, "Yield now." Jon issued a warning, as he clenched his fist. He wasn't going to run for his sword. He was going to fight like his father had taught him, even if it meant his death. The words of his father echoed in his head 'The man willing to die, will be the man that wins the fight.'

Jezin stared with complete disbelief at his opponent. The man was unarmed, but he was still confident, and apparently still willing to fight. The bodyguard stood still for a moment, looking the man over. He was incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid, but still, the blatant refusal to yield impressed Jezin. The knight sheathed his dagger. His sword still remained out, glinting in the sun at his side. He looked into the man's eyes, a new found respect clearly visible. Regardless, though, he could not yield. His pride wouldn't let him walk away from an opponent who hadn't bested him. Still, he didn't want to kill the man. He thought for a moment and looked up, a smile crossing his lips. "Brave words. But no, I will not yield." He made no effort to strike the man, simply standing tall with his sword at his side. A faint breeze blew his plume, the dyed horsehair dancing in the wind.

Jon once again, spat out off to his side, while keeping eye contact with Jezin. Jon was going to make his father proud, and prove that he was worth something, even if it meant taking a sword in the belly, "Your best against my best." Jon said, simply, with no emotion on his voice. Jon waited about a period of 3 seconds, before sprinting towards Jezin, right fist cocked back. Jon kick jumped the last few feet, throwing the punch downwards at Jezin's chin. Jon wasn't going to let this knight put him down without Jon putting up a decent fight. Sure, he had given the knight a hard time, but that wasn't enough for Jon. He didn't want to do good for a potato farmer, because he knew he had the potential to be much more than that. This act of stupid defiance wasn't a sense of pride, and unwillingness to fail, it was a Jon earning self-worth, and proving to himself, that he was better than everyone thought he was.

Jezin's gaze stayed fixed on Jon as he charged forward. It was clear the man was dead set on continuing the fight, regardless of the cost. A faint smile crossed his face as Jon pulled back his fist and made to swing. Jezin lowered his head and the punch connected flatly against his helmet, just above his eyes. The loud clank of bone against metal rang out across the stands. The punch itself did no harm to the knight, but the full force of Jon's weight thrown behind it forced him back a few steps. His ears rang from the strike. It was clear the man had a great deal of strength to throw around. Jezin looked up at the young man, sword still hanging by his side. It was likely connecting with metal hurt the man's knuckles, but it seemed unlikely that such a possibility would even slow Jon down. Jezin stood straight again and pointed the sword at his opponent, taking a step forward. He motioned with his hand for the former farmer to try again.

Gareth took his eyes off the fight, and he brought his eyes, themselves a meeting of sea and sky, back to Sophia's. His smooth voice spoke, and as usual failed to reflect how nervous he really was. "Ah, Thomas..." He trailed off as if he were thinking deeply or longingly about the man. Then again, Harker'd be lying if he said he didn't like Thomas at all. Words frantically returned to Gareth's mouth as soon as he became aware of his shortcoming. "Ah, yes, sorry, um," fillers spewed on the spot, "Thomas is a very... good... friend, and I admire his strength and character greatly." He pulled himself together again. "Really we only met yesterday however..." Embarrassing himself in front of a princess, he was sure of it.

Crack. During the loud clang, it could be heard. Jon could feel it. He had broken his hand. Jon was surprised Jezin didn't take a jab at him, once he had failed on his attack. Despite having a slightly broken hand, Jon refused to let any pain show on his face. Jon clenched his right hand, again. It hurt more than just about anything Jon had experienced in his life. He grinded his teeth as he clenched his fist, and sprinted at Jezin, again. While Jon's face was most removed from emotion, his eyes showed a fire that burned so intensely that it was a wonder that the man could keep a straight face. Jon dodged around the pointed sword, and ducked slightly, and raised his fist up at Jezin, aiming for an uppercut, and placing everything he had into the punch.

Jezin didn't even try to move the sword to block Jon. He wanted to see just what the man was capable of. The bodyguard stood his ground, making no effort to move, and took the punch straight to the chin. He stumbled backward, and for a brief moment the world blurred. His ears rang, but he thought he heard something clank beside him. He shook his head, clearing his blurred vision. The punch was incredibly strong, but the Lyoki soldier hadn't fallen. He looked towards Jon, and noticed his helmet lying on the ground by the man's feet. He had seen a fire in the man's eyes, a fire he himself possessed. His jaw ached. His sweaty, dark hair hung partially in his face, but his eyes burned bright beneath it. A wide grin crossed his face. "Very good. Very good indeed." In an instant, the Lyoki lept forward. There was a sudden flash as his sword moved. Rather than attempting to slash the man, however, Jezin had feinted an upwards slash and brought the brass pommel of the weapon down hard towards Jon's forehead.

Sophia was perplexed at the current state of the fight. Jon had been disarmed, but was still fighting. Jezin seemed to be refusing to go for the easy win of cutting the man down. 'Curse his pride...' Sophia thought as the bodyguard took a hard punch. Gareth's voice broke her concentration on the fight. "Oh yes, Sir Thomas seems like a fine man. Not to worry, I only met him yesterday as well." She gave a slight laugh. She looked over the young man sitting beside her. He couldn't have been much older than herself. He seemed quite nervous, and kept stumbling over his words. She gave a comforting smile. "Do beg my pardon Gareth, but why do you seem so nervous?"

Jon smirked as he witnessed the damage he had done, but it soon faded, after he realized he had absolutely no feeling left in his hand. As he looked down, he noticed the knuckles of his right hand were grossly out of place, and he could see a bugle in the middle of his knuckles. Jon looked forward, as he the knight charged at him. Jon didn't move. The man had given Jon his hit, the man deserved his own. The pommel of the sword slammed into Jon's forehead. For a moment, Jon's vision was black, but as quick as his vision had faded, it had came back, and he was still on his feet. He could a rush of warmth over his head, as blood gushed from the wound on his hairline, down past his eyes, all the way to his chin. Jon felt his head on fire, as if someone had started a campfire on the crown of his head, but Jon didn't budge an inch. He was in immense pain, but Jezin would be the last person he would ever show his pain to Jon pushed the pommel away from his line of sight and, still dizzy, and feeling lightheaded, drove his head forward at Jezin's head. Jon was going to headbutt Jezin in the nose.

Jezin stepped back quickly as Jon tried to headbutt him. The knight retained an astounding composure despite the bizarre turn the fight had taken. He had stepped just outside the range of Jon's attack. He was impressed the man had managed to stay standing after the blow to the head. He had been surprised by the fight with the man, but it was dragging on far too long. There were other matches to be fought, and wasting more energy would almost certainly spell his doom in later rounds. With lightning quickness, he flipped the single-edged weapon in his hand. With a quick sweeping motion, he swung the blunt edge of the blade towards the side of Jon's head. The knight swung with a tremendous amount of force, enough to knock his opponent unconscious, or at the very least cause him to lose his balance.

Jon ducked, as the blunt side of the blade brushed past the tip of his hairs. Moving fast caused pain to ring out throughout Jon's body, but he wasn't about to let that stop him from winning this fight. As Jon ducked, he also dived forward, at the wait of Jezin, attempting to wrap Jezin up, and take him to the ground, where Jon could gain some sort of advantage of the skillful knight. Jon was starting to get tunnel vision, the edges of his eyesight starting to turn black. He knew it must be from the repeated blows to the head, the pain, and blood loss combined. Jon wasn't going to let himself pass out, though. He wasn't going to simply be put into unconsciousness. Jon didn't bend as easily as other farmers and commoners did.

Jezin was shocked the man was still able to function after so much fighting, much less dodge his attack. As Jon dove for his waist, Jezin made a quick spin, sliding around Jon's grip and ending up behind him. He gave a swift kick towards the back of the man's knees, hopefully enough to knock him to the ground. With a flick of his wrist, he flipped his sword back into the correct position and pointed it towards his opponent's back. He didn't want to cause the man irreparable harm, but he was running out of other options. Gripping the blade tightly, he took a step towards his foe and spoke. "Yield now. You've proven yourself a worthy combatant, all you're doing now is destroying yourself. There's no need to die over this match. I tell you one last time. Yield... Or I will cut you down." Jezin no longer spoke with the charisma and flair he had before. His voice was now stony and cold, evoking a tone of icy seriousness.