Omen: 1, 16
Adam stared at the numbers for a long while.
‘I could make her miss me once for sure, and I can all but guarantee a blow on her,’ he thought. ‘I really don’t want to lose, but can I really beat her? She seems really strong, and I got my ass handed to me yesterday by that old man.’
The Iyrmen in this world were built different. The old men in the Iyr seemed to be terrifying weapons of war, and it was still a surprise to Adam that the Iyr hadn’t swept through the land to take it over.
Then he recalled that most of the Iyrmen he had seen in the other section seemed more… reasonable.
That was the word.
They weren’t terrifying monsters like most of the Iyrmen he had seen, but they each could hold their own against most Aldish soldiers. That was what he assumed.
“Are you okay?” Sonarot asked.
“I’m fine,” Adam admitted. “The healing from yesterday healed me up right and good, but I’m still a little scared to face Otkan.”
“With your puthral plate and your magic, you should be more equipped to face Aunt.”
“Will I really be able to win?”
“Win? I do not know that. You will be able to put up a good fight, I am certain of that.”
With Sonarot’s words, Adam sighed. “Okay.”
He went about his day, following his normal routine. The Dire Wolf pups stared up at him, tilting their heads, noting his lack of enthusiasm that day. Even Lanarot, who normally enjoyed playing with Adam, who was often happy to play with her, noted his solemn expression.
“Are you going to cheer me on?” Adam asked, holding her in front of him.
She clapped her hands, squirmed, and giggled joyfully, as a baby would.
“Then I won’t lose.” He kissed her forehead.
“Mother is asking if you are willing to face her,” Shikan asked.
“Yeah.”
“The battle will take place at noon, near the Kan family estate.”
Adam nodded.
“How fortunate you are, Adam,” Sonarot said. “Jurot will be filled with envy when he returns and finds that you have had the chance to face Aunt.”
Adam’s lips slowly formed a smile. “Heh.”
Adam ate a light meal, not wanting it to weight him down. He would eat a delicious meal after to celebrate his victory, or to drown in the delicious food after his loss. It was a win win situation either way.
Sonarot led Adam towards the family estate once more, though it was far more lively. There were well over a hundred Rot family members about, and just as many Kans, who had been invited to watch the bout.
“Thank you for replying so quickly,” Otkan said, wearing the typical attire of the Iyrmen, a large greatsword hung against her back.
“Well, I thought I might as well rip off the plaster now,” he said.
Otkan nodded her head slowly, unsure of what he meant, but she assumed the meaning of it.
“Is he using a sword?” the Devilkin teen said, staring up at his grandfather.
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Jarot rubbed his chin with the back of his knuckles. “He is new to the family. He will use an axe soon.”
The Devilkin teen frowned, but since his grandfather had defended Adam, he couldn’t say anything in return. However, the other children had also noted the lack of an axe on the Rot Nephew, and whispered between one another, sometimes with a lack of quietness.
‘I swear, I’ll make an axe soon,’ Adam thought, sweating under their words.
Soon there was a different talk spreading through them. There were a few of the older generation who brought out their books and began to write down notes as Iyrmen walked up to them, dropping down a silver here and there, whereas those of the older generation slipped the bookies some gold.
Sonarot placed a necklace over his neck, one which was made of thin chain, with a small black gem at the end of it. “Do you wish to bet?”
Adam’s eyes fell to Lanarot, who was currently holding onto a Devilkin Rot’s horns.
“It would be rude of me to bet when I know I’m going to win,” he said, his throat drying up.
Otkan stared at him, and his stomach began to churn.
“I have never lost in front of Lanarot before, and I don’t intend to start today,” Adam muttered. However, his heart was thundering in his chest, threatening to leap out. “Give me a second to pray.”
Adam dropped down to his knee, bowing his head. ‘It would be silly of me to pray to Wahtu and Baktu, not against an Iyrman.’ He inhaled deeply and clapped his hands together in front of him.
“Lady Elaveil, I hope you can hear me,” he whispered. “I’m asking you, just this one time, balance things between us. Make it a coin flip to whether who would win, please, and I’ll be sure to return the favour.”
However, it was not Lady Elaveil who would assist him.
‘Mistress Fate,’ Adam thought, sending out his prayers into the nether. ‘I’m just asking, this one time, help me out. I really don’t want to lose in front of my sister and Aunt. Yesterday I got my ass beat, and I’ll accept that, it’s the price to pay for simping, but give me something this one time. I’m not asking for much, just give her a couple of 1’s, or narrow misses or something.’
Adam remained on his knee, hands clapped together, for a long while.
Otkan was meditating, ignoring the gazes of all the children and youth, who were ready to watch the bout with bated breath.
‘Hey, Baktu. I know it’s rude to pray to someone else, but just ignore it, okay?’ Adam stood up, hopping from side to side, before he grabbed his shield and donned it, clasping it tight. He held his die in the same hand, and reached down towards his blade, drawing it.
The sound of his blade being drawn was gentle.
Otkan stood from her meditation.
“So, how much should we bet?” Adam asked, staring at the woman.
“How much are you willing to bet?” Otkan asked.
“A favour,” Adam replied.
“Is your favour worth as much as mine?”
Adam understood why she asked, considering she was more than likely a Mithril Rank Adventurer, someone who, if she wasn’t holding back as she was today, would put Adam in the dirt.
“Once this magical sword of mine puts you in the dirt, you’ll see,” Adam said, his mouth almost full of cotton from his smack talk, which was burying him deeper and deeper.
“Are you sure you are Jurot’s brother?” Otkan asked. “He would dare not speak so poorly to me.”
“That’s because he isn’t as stupid as me,” Adam said, gripping his blade tighter.
For a moment he saw the flash of a smile on Otkan’s face. “You are certainly Jarot’s Grandson.”
Sonarot had placed down her bet. A single tiger eye gem, placing it down on the table, allowing the bookie to take in her bet.
Jarot, who was grinning ear to ear, tossed a pouch over to a bookie, nodding his head to his cousin. “Put it on my boy.”
Battle Order
D20 + 1 = 15 (14)
Adam, who had calmed slightly from her smile, charged forward.
Warrior Spirit: 3 -> 2
Attack
D20 + 7 = 17 (10)
D20 + 7 = 25 (18)
Hit!
Dunes’ Sword Charges: 3 -> 2
Critical hit!
Mana: 10 -> 8
2D6 + 6D3 + 6D6 + 5 = 34 (1, 4)(1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3)(1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4)
34 damage!
Adam had run through the battle a few times in his mind. He would charge in, and if he had managed to gain the tempo of the battle, he would swing like a mad man and pray.
He managed to strike the first blow, striking across the woman’s front, but she did not seem phased by the blow as she readied her greatsword to strike him.
Onward Soar: 1 -> 0
Attack
D20 + 7 = 23 (16)
D20 + 7 = 24 (17)
Hit!
Dunes’ Sword Charges: 2 -> 1
Critical hit!
Mana: 8 -> 6
2D6 + 6D3 + 6D6 + 5 = 55 (3, 6)(1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3)(3, 3, 5, 6, 6, 6)
55 damage!
Otkan understood why Jarot praised Adam so much, since he was quite the warrior. He wasn’t quite as weak as she originally suspected, and he had certainly grown from the fight with her grandson. However, it was that sword of Adam’s which was currently providing Adam with great strength.
However, when Adam struck her with a desperate blow across her side as she wound up an attack, she realised what Jarot had meant. She could see it in his eyes, the need to win the bout, and for a moment she could feel something stir inside of her.
Adam had managed to land two blows before she could attack, and with the damage he had managed without her raging, it had already gone much better than the previous day against Jarot.
Once he saw the smile on her face, he knew that it was just the beginning.