Another sword was drawn, then another, then a mace, then someone grabbed a huge battle-axe that was leaning against a wall.

The bartender sees this and his eyes widen. “STOPPP!!!” He yells out, causing various people to look at him. The bartender holds up his hands in surrender. “Please, for the love of the gods, take this outside.” He calls out in a steady voice.

Edmund hears this and his adrenaline seems to have tripped, and he was forced to have a calming breath. Edmund exhales the breath and looks to the crowd. “Come on, assholes. Follow me and line up. Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn.” He says as he walks out of the bar first.

Rachel watches this with a deadpan expression. He wasn’t sure what Edmund was up to, but she had the feeling that she was being used. She also exits the bar, leaving the room of men filled with burning jealousy.

“Asshole! If my blade doesn’t feel his flesh today it will haunt me for the rest of my life!” A man says before following after.

Another man spits on the ground. “I’ll not leave till the man shits himself in fear or agony.” He says before following.

“Wait for me!” Another man calls out. Then the rest of the crowd followed, either to assist the others with sacrificing a man for his arrogance, or to watch and enjoy the spectacle.

…

…

Edmund was currently struggling with a panic attack. His breaths were shallow and rapid, and his emotions felt like they were going to explode. Warrior spirit, please take over. Edmund asks, standing amidst a crowd of angry adventures, guards, and mercenaries of various backgrounds.

The warrior spirit lets out a laugh. I’m sorry, young acolyte. No warrior would willingly ask another to carry their burdens. This task is for you and for you alone. I can guide you through the dance, but you must be the one to step forward, to commit to your blade’s crimes. The warrior spirit says. Prepare yourself, and feel my reactions with all of your being. Then, act according to your free will. He says.

Suddenly, Edmund felt the warrior spirit wash over him, calming his breathing and steadying his focus. With a short boost of confidence, he announces, “Let’s dance, bitches.”

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Edmund lunges forward without a care. He decided to fight like a wild animal today. He knew that there was barely a chance of him making out of this unscathed, or even with his life. But by the heaven’s will, since this was the path that was set before him, he would dance the dance accordingly, allowing his movements, his struggle, to be his prayer to the heavens.

Caught unawares, a man was slashed across the chest. He winces and flings his hand out, the back of his hand slapping Edmund, the inexperienced warrior, across the face.

Edmund stumbles back, but before he could steady himself, another man had joined the fray, cleaving downwards with his battle-axe.

Edmund felt the strong reaction of the warrior spirit, and with his feet still unsteady, he did what he could, and he rolled back before leaping back to his feet.

**CRACK**

The man’s immense strength and the weight of the battle-axe had managed to cleave into the stone floor, causing a large crack.

Edmund’s eyes widen, but before he could exclaim his amazement, another strong reaction was felt, stirring Edmund’s anxiety. He quickly turns around and raises his sword to block.

**CLANGG**

The sound of steel clashing resounds through the area. A man was currently pressing his sword down against Edmund’s weak body, forcing him still. If he dared to lose focus, he would be cut down then and there. With all his might, Edmund resisted, but again, he felt the strong reaction of the warrior spirit.

He he he. Idiot. He’s done now. A man says as he approaches with his mace.

Then, unknowingly, a magical energy gently floated down to the crowd.

Hmm. This is all really for a girl. I don’t have bad blood with this boy. Might as well just give him the beating of a lifetime. The man thinks as he drops his mace and steps forward to throw a swift and heavy punch to Edmund’s head.

**BANG**

Edmund felt like a large stone had just hit him on the side of the head. His body wavered and his resistance against his foe’s blade faltered.

The man holding the blade lets out a sigh. Relax, boy. I won’t kill you this day. But I’ll be sure to leave my mark. He thinks as he guides his sword to make a slash to Edmund’s bicep, enough to pain him for a while, but not quite enough to kill.

Blood splashes, and Edmund’s worn body slumps slightly. Edmund gulps down his saliva. Damn. This is the day I die, I guess. He thinks.

Edmund had no time to relax. Before long, another man had approached and sent a swift punch to his stomach, causing Edmund to puke.

Another man decided to stab a dagger into Edmund’s body, making sure to avoid any vital signs.

Then, Edmund collapsed, and what followed was the fierce and angry boots of a dozen men, beating down on Edmund’s body.

Rachel watched all this warily, but she immediately noticed that no one was intent on killing Edmund. So she could only let out a sigh and allow it to continue. It’s your own damn fault for trying to claim me. Hmmph! She exclaims in her mind.

Eventually the boots slowed, and the crowd grew bored. A few people stayed to spit on Edmund’s body before the crowd slowly made it’s way back inside. For some reason, the men all felt refreshed, like they had just eaten an eight-course meal with the finest red wine.

Edmund, left on the ground, his body beaten, broken, and bleeding, couldn’t even groan. He was lifeless like a ragdoll.

Suddenly, a voice speaks in his mind.

Nice try, young acolyte. My brother must have said something, but unfortunately, this turn of events isn’t exactly what I had in mind. So we’ll call it even for the moment with your beaten body, but keep my test in mind, it will come for you one day. Your struggle eased my spirit, but it’s not enough. Continue to pray, young one; continue to pray.