Syrlya's grip on the training sword slacks as he lets out a heavy breath of his own. He slides his shield off his arm, digging the base into the dirt so he can lean against it as Lambert hydrates himself.

"You get used to it," he assures. Which is true, and that shield is luckily lighter than it probably should be. Of course, with Syrlya's evasion being largely magic based, he has less shape to get used to--just mostly weight.

He raises a brow at Lambert's suggestion, a wry smile growing on his face. "A tie-breaker? You do not need to rest, first?"