Omen: 8, 16
“Oh ho? What’s this?” Adam asked, finding a familiar face waiting for him in the morning. Sir Landon’s knight, who Adam had beaten recently, was waiting for him at the guild. A large box sat on the table in front of the knight, while adventurers glared at the heavily armoured figure.
“I have come to deliver your capes,” the knight said, unlocking the box to reveal short capes, each with the symbol of the Littlesea family, a small wave within a circle, embroidered into them. The capes were short, barely covering half of their backs when worn.
“I see,” Adam said, feeling a slightly giddiness within him. “Is it because the good sir is sponsoring us?”
“Yes.”
“Ah.” Adam noted how many capes there were. “There seems to be quite a few.”
“Sir Landon wishes to sponsor yourself, your three Iyrmen companions, and each of the teen Iyrmen, and Nobby,” the knight said, eyeing Nobby up, who towered over even himself. ‘What do they feed him?’
Adam lifted the cape up, holding it in his hand. It was soft to the touch, and shiny, the light reflecting off the silk. ‘Cool.’
“You and your three companions will earn fifty gold for each win, and the teens will receive ten gold.” The knight held out the contract, which stated the additional terms.
Adam eyed up the contract, before looking to the teens. “What do you think?”
“We will fight,” Nirot replied.
“Okay,” Nobby said.
Adam signed the paper, allowing each of them to sign the paper, before it was handed to the guild to process. Once it was done, the knight revealed another box, which held small badges with the Littlesea symbol upon them. Once his business was done, he left the guild.
“Alright, let’s head to the tournament then,” Adam said, grinning slightly.
The group made their way out, followed by several other adventurers, who were also planning on joining the tournament.
“How did you manage to find someone to sponsor you?” an adventurer beside him asked.
“We worked with Sir Landon previously,” Adam admitted. “He offered to sponsor us.”
The adventurer just nodded their head, before returning back to their group, allowing them to leave in peace.
The arena was made of sandstone, three floors tall, and was easily a hundred steps wide on each side. Adam tilted his head, noting the arena did not cut off at right angles, but was more circular in shape.
“Is it an octagon?” Adam asked, eyeing up the sides of the arena.
“Yes,” Jurot replied.
“Cool.”
They passed the crowd, instead heading to another entrance, which was reserved for those who wished to join the tournament. Adam wondered how many people could fit within the arena, as all he could see was a sea of people around him.
Jurot led the group forward, approaching one of the guards of the arena to one side. She guarded an entrance to the side. She was adorned in breastplate over chain, and wielded a spear. A blade dangled at her side.
“Sir Landon,” Jurot said, motioning to his badge.
After a moment, the guard nodded, allowing them to step through the side entrance to bypass the rest of the warriors trying to sign up.
“You guys stay here, and stay out of trouble,” Adam said, his eyes glued to Lucy.
“I won’t cause any trouble,” the Demon huffed.
“I’ll leave it to you, Sir Vonda,” Adam said, bowing his head lightly.
A guard escorted the group through the side, and Adam noticed how quiet it had become. He was becoming accustomed to the noisiness of the city. They were taken to a group of arena workers, each wearing grey outfits with silver trim. Most were busy with other great warriors sponsored by other nobles. An old woman, who carried a dagger at her side, approached the large group.
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“How may I assist you?” she asked, spotting their badges. She hadn’t expected any noble to have sponsored so many, but considering it was a Littlesea, she supposed it was one of the children trying to toss as many as he could to see if one would stick.
“Sir Landon sponsors us,” Jurot said.
“Of course,” she said, motioning a hand for them to follow her, before she grabbed several sheets, one for each of them. “Your name?”
“Jurot.”
“Age?”
“Twenty.”
“Do you wish to fight in the second range?”
“No.”
“The third range?”
“Yes.”
“Are you certain? It is for those aged between twenty five and thirty five.” The older woman wasn’t sure why she was asking an Iyrman if he was sure, considering how normal it was for them to try and fight the harder range.
“Yes,” Jurot said.
“Are you sure?” Adam asked. “Twenty five to thirty five? I’m not confident to face against them either.”
Jaygak blinked, unable to control herself from gawking at Adam for a moment. ‘Adam!’ Her lips pulled taut.
“I’m pretty confident you can win against anyone twenty five and under,” Adam continued.
“I wish to face those who are stronger,” Jurot said.
“Yeah, but…” Adam crossed his arms. “If you can get first place, won’t Lanarot think you’re cool?” Adam asked. “I want to get first place too. Can you imagine how happy she’ll be? She’ll get to show off the fact she has two brothers who placed first. Then I can show you off to my kids too.”
Jurot stared at Adam, who was nodding his head with his eyes closed, imagining the scenario with a satisfied smile.
“Okay,” Jurot said.
“The second range?”
“Yes.”
“Martial or magical?” the woman asked, though she knew the answer.
“Martial.”
“Will you be using magical equipment? Weapons, armours, clothing, or other items?”
“Yes.”
The woman continued, probing them for as much as they would share, from their time spent adventuring, to their rank, and so on. She continued, asking each of them the same. She was surprised to hear how quickly they had ranked up.
“You are seventeen?” she asked, staring at the giant known as Nobby.
“Yes.”
“He’s going to turn eighteen this year,” Adam said, as though it was as believable.
The older woman stared at the taller, widely built, Nobby. Her eyes were full of suspicion.
“He is seventeen,” Jurot said.
The woman met Jurot’s eyes for a moment, but continued marking down the notes.
The teens fought in the first range of the mundane martial tournament, whereas Jurot and the others fought in the second range of the magical martial tournament. Adam fought in the second range of the magical magic tournament.
“The second range of the magical magic tournament is full of great warriors this year,” she said as though it wasn’t a mouthful. “Many great mercenaries, but the greatest are Sir Roseia, the King’s Sword’s daughter, and her cousin, Sir Karra.”
“I wonder how strong they are,” Adam mused aloud, smirking slightly.
“I will process your applications,” the woman said. “You may leave if you wish.”
“Should we watch the fights today?” Adam asked.
“Yes,” Jurot said.
The group made their way out towards the side exit, which led to other rooms. However, Adam could see to the side, in the centre of the arena, a smaller octagon, with smaller walls emanating out towards the outer arena walls, though they only blocked off sight to the first two floors of the arena. On the ground was a large square platform made of stone, set within the earth so it was flush beside it.
“What’s the smaller octagon in the middle?” Adam asked.
“It is where most of the greater nobles relax,” Jurot said. “The top floor of the arena is for minor nobles and merchants.”
“Of course.” Adam almost rolled his eyes.
The group made their way up to the first floor, sandwiched between the floor for the nobles, and the floor for the masses. Other warriors relaxed within the large area, looking out to the arena floor where warriors without sponsorships would partake in unofficial fights.
“Brother Jurot!” came a shout from nearby.
Adam blinked, recalling the voice. They found a set of Iyrmen alongside a group of adventurers. Adam recognised the three faces, smiling.
The handsome bronze skinned Iyrman extended a hand to shake Jurot’s forearm. “You have come to fight in the tournament?”
“Yes,” Jurot replied, shaking the Iyrman’s forearm.
“Adam,” the Iyrman said.
“Amokan,” Adam replied, shaking his forearm. “What are you three doing here?”
“We are here to fight in the tournament,” Amokan declared. “It is our first step to become Unrivalled Under The Heavens.”
Adam winced at the title which he had brought into the Iyr. The guilt of corrupting the Iyrmen youth with such cringe inducing words hurt him deeply, and he couldn’t blame the Iyrmen for wanting to kill him because of it.
“We are already Experts,” Amokan declared, grinning wide.
“Nice,” Adam whispered. “I’m sure you have many stories to tell.”
“I have!” the Iyrman replied, unable to control his wild grin. “I have avenged my sister!”
“Ah!” Adam replied, stumbling over his words. “I’m, uh, I’m glad.” Adam exchanged a look with Jurot.
“Timojin,” Jurot called, having already greeted the Horcish Iyrman. “We have returned your sister’s body to the Iyr.”
Amokan raised his brows in surprise, glancing to Timojin. The Horcish Iyrman closed his eyes, furrowing his brows in thought for a long moment.
“Thank you,” Timojin said.
“She fought well,” Jurot assured.
Timojin nodded, and continued greeting the rest of the Iyrmen, including his younger cousin, Uwajin.
“It’s good to see you too,” Adam said, forgetting the beautiful Iyrman’s name.
“You as well,” Amokan’s cousin replied, shaking Adam’s hand.
‘Damn it, what was her name?’ Adam thought, before the group settled down to speak with one another.