"Can I ask you why this sudden idea for a battle?" Luke asked, watching his father prepare.
The man slowly removed the stump covering his amputated arm.
Gustav hummed. "Are you not aware of the old traditions where men fought, and the victor claimed anything from the defeated?"
Luke rubbed the back of his head. "So I am taking mother away from you through this battle?"
Gustav grinned. "You are quite confident in yourself, it seems." Taking out his knife, he added, "There was a time when the chief personally asked me to work for him. Come, son. Let me show you why I was once among the most feared hunters of this village."
Luke did not take it lightly. He could tell the man was at half his strength, not just because his left arm was missing, but also because he had not gone hunting in a long time.
However, 'Who would believe that while looking at that stance?' Luke grinned as he watched the man settle into position, sharp and composed, leaving no visible opening.
