“Yeah, I think so,” Adam replied.
Jurot crossed his arms, wondering if they needed to do anything if the arena owner was going to threaten them. Since she hadn’t done anything to Adam, Jurot decided to let it go.
“I made bank,” Adam whispered, smiling. “I’m going to keep betting on us, though I don’t think that I’ll be able to make as much as I did today.”
“Blade could have taken one of the top three spots with Sir Roseia and Sir Karra,” Jurot said. “There were many who would have bet for her.”
“Does that mean they’ll bet for me if I face Sir Roseia?” Adam asked, frowning. ‘So I’ll make a lot less money.’
“The Aldish will think themselves above the Magisterium. They will bet on Sir Karra and Sir Roseia.”
“The Aldish still have their pride,” Jaygak added.
“Good.” Adam smirked wide, tasting the gold to be made. “I’ll milk their pride for all it’s worth.”
The farmers and the porters shared glances between one another. They, too, felt their pouches begin to grow heavy. Once they were at the guild, the farmers and porters met together.
“Do you follow the silver rule too?” Rick asked.
“We do.”
Rick bowed his head slowly. The silver rule was a rule owed to the Golden Lord, the Lord of Trade, Musa. Simply put, they would pool together their resources together, and would each take a share once the business was concluded. This included the time Adam had split them apart, so though the gold they had gained was different, it was split between them all the same.
“We should do the same with the bets,” Rick said. “How much have you bet so far?”
“Thirty gold on each of the older Iyrmen, including Timojin and Amokan,” Remy said.
“We did the same,” Rick admitted. “How much did you bet on Adam?”
“Thirty gold. You?”
Rick nodded. “Would you like to join our pot?”
“What are the rules?”
“We will all pool into the same pot to bet, and we will only bet with the lowest amount comfortable,” Rick said. “We will win the same and lose the same.”
Jeremy threw a look to his cousin, before the pair thought about what Rick was offering, and why. They didn’t need Rick to suggest something like that since they could have made the rule between themselves. However, if they joined the farmers, it would mean there were more people to caution them against betting too much. Rick was a father, and the most cautious among them all in the matter of gold, whereas the porters were cautious in the matters of blood.
Remy nodded to Jeremy, who returned with a nod. “We’ll join, but I have a condition.”
“What is it?”
“We always bet on Nobby.” Remy stared deep into Rick’s eyes, the porter’s glare unyielding. “It doesn’t have to be much, just a gold.”
“Nobby?”
“I’m sure he’ll place high, so we should bet on him too,” Remy said. “We’ve already placed twenty gold each on the boy to win.”
“The point of the group is to bet comfortably,” Rick replied. “Forcing us to bet goes against its principles.”
“Even if it’s one gold, we should bet on Nobby,” Remy said. “It’s not about whether he wins or loses, it’s about the principle. The boy’s been trained by the Iyrmen, and Adam.”
Rick exchanged a look with the farmers. “Even if we bet only one gold?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Rick said, extending a hand, shaking Remy’s forearm.
Omen: 7, 18
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
Once again it was time for the mundane warriors to fight. The group was up bright and early to try and watch as many of their youth’s fights, though there were times they couldn’t since, they were in the wrong section, or they would fight in different arenas at the same time
“Laygak, son of Kaygak!” a shouter from each side of the room said. “Against Liam, the Steeled Sword!”
Upon hearing the names, Adam made his bet for Laygak, as he had for each teen Iyrman. Laygak, who had grown more powerful under Adam, crushed his opponent.
‘I understand what cousin Jaygak meant,’ Laygak thought as his opponent dropped before him. He had yet to begun to sweat against his opponent, who was quite strong considering the average warrior who had signed up. Laygak was surely one of the weakest of the group, and yet, he was probably in the top ten of the entire segment, something which wouldn’t have been true if he hadn’t trained with Adam.
‘A wyvern amongst Dragons.’
The Iyrmen, who had yet to face one another, crushed their opponents with relative ease. Adam had gathered their opponents were no more than Level 1 or 2 at most, yet the Iyrmen seemed to be Adepts, Level 3 or so.
‘Nice.’
Nobby stood tall as he faced against another giant who was roughly his height and as wide as him. She was adorned in heavy chain, with a greatsword against her back. She had been introduced as Bridgette.
“Hey, is that Iggritte?” Adam asked, squinting his eyes as he stared down at the pair.
“It appears to be the case,” Vonda replied, recognising the young woman’s silhouette.
In the smaller hexagon, a tan skinned young man sat. He wore fine robes, and carried at his side a rapier. Behind him were two hired Experts, which acted as his body guards at the time. He wore a large hat, pure white, with a white feather.
“I’ll bet on the big boy,” his partner said. She was an older Half Elf, nearing a century, and yet looked no older than her late thirties. She was adorned in fine silks too, those imported from the Confederacy.
“I’ll refuse this time,” Pual said, sighing. “I’ve lost too much gold the last time they fought.”
“Our Igritte lost?”
“The boy was trained by an Iyrman,” Pual said.
“The Iyrmen?” The young woman smiled wide. “The Sansant family might be wary of such savages, but the Deathsingers know not to draw too close to our territory.”
“I don’t care if you start trouble with the Duchess of East Port, but don’t involve me with any bother with the Iyrmen,” Pual grumbled quietly.
“Since when were you so meek?” The Half Elf waved her hand and a bottle of wine floated over to refill their cups.
“Last I checked,” Pual began, before switching over to Elvish, “we’re still being hunted.”
His companion smiled, before raising a finger as she sipped from the floating cup. “You’re too cautious. Not even our friend, Ramir, is quite so cautious, and he’s stuck with all the children.”
“Don’t say his name so openly,” Pual rubbed the side of his neck. “Let him have his peace.”
“The fight is beginning,” Kira said, her eyes trailing to the large form of Nobby. ‘I could dominate him if I-,’
“Don’t,” Pual growled quietly.
“What?”
“I’ll counter it.”
Kira sighed. “When did you become such a nork?”
Nobby and Igritte fought once more, but the gap between them had increased. Whereas the pair had fought at roughly the same strength previously, Nobby had become an Expert in the meantime, and thus for every blow she could throw, Nobby could throw two.
“That’s our boy!” Adam shouted, cackling like a hyena.
The farmers and porters weren’t sure what to think as they glanced between Adam and Nobby. Even Brittany, who had fallen into the shadows once Adam proclaimed his bet, stared at him with a queer look.
“Adam, please,” Vonda said, trying to get the Half Elf to settle down.
“Look at the monster we’ve raised,” Adam said, with far too light of a tone. “Do you know what the odds were, Sir Vonda? Twenty to one! Nobby’s going to make me rich once he wins! Well, maybe not rich, since I already have a fair amount of gold, but certainly more comfortable!”
The others around looked his way, wondering who the Half Elf was. Stating he was rich while surrounded by capable warriors certainly put a target on his back, even if he was settled beside a member of an order.
“We’re going to take first in at least two different segments,” Adam said. “Should we aim for three?”
Nobby and the Iyrmen made their way up to the group. The teen Iyrmen, who had shown themselves capable, caused the coveting gazes to back away.
Adam clasped Nobby on his shoulders. “Nobby, do you know how much I bet on you just now?”
“No.”
Adam smirked wider. “Five hundred gold, my boy.”
“Okay.”
Brittany wasn’t sure why Adam was lying, since five hundred was only half of the gold he had bet on Nobby.
“I bet some of the party fund too,” Adam said, patting Nobby on his back. “I’ll make sure to take a bit of my earnings and send them to your family.”
“Thank you, mister boss.”
“It’s the least I can, my towering muscle of gold,” Adam said.
“Number one enforcer.”
“That’s right!” Adam continued to laugh. “I’m sure you guys did well too?”
“We did,” Nirot replied.
“I thought so. You guys win too easily, so the bets don’t really favour you much.” Adam sighed, though his lips twitched into a smirk. “Oh well.”
The group remained together, as they had paid the gold required to remain to watch the fights the entire day. Jurot had made sure to pay for the first day with the party fund. He, too, had forgotten in his excitement to watch the tournament. They bought more food as time passed, spending silvers for the snacks.
The others weren’t sure how to feel since the party fund was paying for it all.
“How many people are in this room?” Adam asked a guard.
“A thousand?” the guard replied.
“Damn, that many, really?” Adam asked.
“Yes.”
“How much for a mug of ale?”
“Three coppers.”
Adam held out four gems to a nearby server. “If anyone orders a mug of ale, please take it from this first.”
“As you say,” the server replied, bowing their head. “Who should we refer to ask their benefactor?”
“I’m not sure if that’s quite up to the title of benefactor, but tell them that…” Adam thought about it. “The United Kindom.”
“As you wish.”
‘I wonder how much I should bet on Jurot and the others?’ Adam thought.