The Watchmen responded to Nexholm's declaration by stomping their feet on the ground, causing the very earth to shake.

The second-in-command nodded in approval and then he barked out an order. "Get back to your duty!"

Wordlessly, the Border Patrolmen resumed their vigilance scouring for dangers beyond the wall.

"Please follow me," Nexholm requested and then started walking eastward.

I saw that further to the right along the wall, there was a break in the stone wall; and there was a gatehouse adjoining each end of the wall. In the space between these structures, there two lines: the left for people entering the town and the right for people exiting Tregome. I saw relatively few people leaving, presumably because the trappers and gatherers had departed earlier this morning. Additionally, it appeared that the people seeking entry into Tregome were subject to greater scrutiny; the presence of a man of the cloth wearing a truth stone around his neck amongst the Watchmen lent further credence to this assumption.

For a moment, I imagined myself returning from the Melee Tournament with a big medal around my neck for winning my division, and explaining to the cleric, under oath, how I obtained the medal. Well, even if I enter the tournament with low expectations, there was always hope, right? Abruptly, I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. I received a pop-up that read, "-2 Health." Ouch. I quickly dismissed the message. It was obvious who inflicted the damage.

"Stop dallying," Kalistra grumbled.

"Sorry, master!" I replied meekly and hurried after the second captain. I heard a snicker behind me, and I knew that it was Maisen. Only she would enjoy my humiliation. The Border Patrolmen guarding the wall were far too tense to laugh at me. Frankly, their demeanor was worrisome because this attitude reflected their concerns for dangers lurking beyond this crumbling old wall. When I embark on my journey tomorrow morning, I will probably encounter this danger. The gaming world will undoubtedly ensure that this will occur. And then both the gods and the gamemaster will be watching to see how I survive this encounter. Yep, that was the reason why I was brought into this world—solely for their entertainment.

As if to confirm my suspicion, I felt a slight tingling from one of the hidden brands on my left forearm. Only the demigod, Bane, had shown an inclination to monitor my thoughts continuously and also communicate with me via my divine brand. I quickly called up an unpleasant memory of my bossy editor from back home reading me the riot act for failing to submit a weekly chapter for my book. Take that, Bane!

Abruptly, I felt something push me gently on my back. "Come on milord," Maisen breathed closely into my left ear. Her hand was persistent and I couldn't prevent my body from taking a few steps forward. "Alright, alright! I'm going," I said in a whiny voice. I saw that Nexholm had entered the left gatehouse and I quickly entered the structure as well.

I had to admit that I was surprised when I walked in. There was a door frame but no door. The gatehouse was made of wood, enclosed with a roof some six feet above the ground. The size of the gatehouse was approximately a dozen of those old-fashioned telephone booths stacked together. Frankly, calling the structure a "gatehouse" was generous; it was more like an oversized security booth. Inside the booth was a table with some stools underneath. On the far end of the booth was a cauldron over some stones. I saw smoke coming out of the large pot, meaning that the stones were heating the contents of the pot somehow.

"Ah, milord is here at last!" the second captain said with a smile. "Please join us for lunch," he continued as he stirred the cauldron with a wooden ladle and then started pouring the liquid into small bowls on the table. "Come take a bowl and eat," he urged.

I drew closer to the table and saw a dozen bowls in all. I peered into a bowl and saw oatmeal. I took a bowl and a spoon from the table and started eating my lunch. It was extremely bland in taste. Frankly, cardboard probably tasted better than this oatmeal. That said, I was mindful of the fact that this was the guards' regular meals and they were gracious enough to share it with me.

Maisen helped herself to a bowl. "Not as good as lunch from The Noble Lady, but a free meal is a free meal," she noted pointedly.

I noticed that Kalistra didn't join us. I peered through the door frame and saw the cat girl standing outside, bravely battling with a hardened beef jerky using her teeth. "She's not joining us?" I asked.

"Your instructor is not a Border Patrolman," Nexholm explained in a neutral tone of voice. "It would be against Watch regulations for her to eat in here with us."

"I qualify to eat here because you just made me a member of your patrol," I noted.

The old man nodded in agreement.

"Are you angry?" Maisen asked.

"At what?" I answered between spoons of oatmeal. This was a loaded question and I should squeeze out the hidden meaning behind the question.

"Oh, I don't know . . . the fact that you're missing lunch at your girlfriend's workplace? Or that we made you a member of the Border Patrolmen without asking you first?" she replied.

"Well, anyone would be disappointed at missing out the fine cuisine at The Noble Lady," I remarked, earning a few hearty chuckles from my lunch companions standing around the table. "As for your fraternity here, let's just say that the only group I've joined voluntarily was the dojo. For the rest, it was more like the circumstances dictating that I join. I will admit that this is a concern for me personally because I'm more accustomed to having the freedom of choice. But I don't mind becoming a member of your Border Patrol because I think that your men here have an important duty in safeguarding this frontier town, and, indeed, they are the unsung heroes."

The men put their bowls down and immediately started clapping their hands and cheered me.

I smiled and resumed eating my oatmeal.

"Well said, milord," Nexholm gave me a respectful nod after seeing the men's reaction to my response. He was surprised because oftentimes, the nobility was a bunch of greedy, self-centered fools who saw nothing but money and power. This man, on the other hand, was respectful, thoughtful, and downright humble! It was the right decision to make me a member of the patrol, even if it was meant to be merely honorary in nature.

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Once Captain Maisen finished her meal, she placed her bowl on the table. "Captain Nexholm, is Jomyril causing problems again?" she asked.

"Yes," the older man answered succinctly.

Maisen nodded and said aloud. "Please summon Jomyril to the gatehouse."

The Watchman standing closest to the exit immediately ran out of the booth.

The captain turned toward me. "Lawrence, when you're finished eating please wait in front of this gatehouse," she ordered.

"Yes, captain," I replied. Mindful of the fact that Maisen was with her subordinates, I had to address her more formally. It took a few more spoons to finish my bowl. Then I left the gatehouse and was immediately accosted by an irate Kalistra.

"Did you enjoy your fine dining, milord?" the evil cat girl smirked.

"My lousy oatmeal still tasted better than your beef jerky," I pointed out.

Kalistra hissed at me and turned her head aside.

A minute later, we saw a lumbering giant of a man slowly approaching us. The man was bald headed, his skin was bronze colored, and he had a physical frame that even rivaled Maisen's! His eyes were trained on Kalistra, ignoring me entirely. He leered at her and walked up to her. "What's a little kitty like you doing up north? You ran out of scratching posts?" The man burst out laughing at his own joke and slammed his fist against the wall a few times.

Kalistra's lime green eyes flared at the insufferable newcomer. "Perhaps, I could use YOU as one?" she replied and flexed her right paw.

"Ouu, she's going to scratch me now," the man mocked her.

I took a look at the giant man's caption and my heart sank when it confirmed that this was "Jomyril" the troublemaker that Nexholm had mentioned earlier. Someone sighed out loud. I turned my head left and saw both captains standing next to me.

"Attention!" Captain Maisen suddenly barked.

All the Watchmen within earshot immediately stood upright and saluted. All, that was, except, for Jomyril, who gave her a lazy salute.

Maisen stood in front of the troublemaker and the two stared eye to eye for a long while before the subordinate finally broke off contact.

"Did you summon me, Captain?" he muttered.

Suddenly, Maisen grabbed the man's chin. "When you address me, you are required to pay close attention to me," she admonished him.

Jomyril started to reach for his sword hilt when he heard the drawing of steel all around him. Realizing that the rest of the Watchmen sided with the new captain over him, Jomyril noticeably relaxed and moved his hand away from his sword.

In response, the rest of the Watchmen sheathed their blades.

"I really wish I didn't need to summon you, Jomyril," the captain said softly and finally released him. "With your natural talents, you could have been groomed to replace Second Captain Nexholm when he retires," she revealed.

The surprise was written on the troublemaker's face but he quickly smoothed it back to a neutral expression.

Maisen nodded to confirm that she had not misspoken. "The only problem is that you lack discipline. Everything seems to come naturally to you. You lack focus and character. If you decide to join the bandits and become an outlaw today, do you think anyone here will be surprised?" she surmised.

"Hey!" Jomyril protested. "My dad may have been an outlaw, but I'm nothing like him at all!" He stared at her with angry eyes and his enormous hands balled into fists.

"No, your pride would not allow you to sank down to his level," Nexholm interrupted.

Seeing that were the two captains were firmly against him, Jomyril tried another tactic. "Sirs! May I ask why I was summoned?" The subordinate wanted desperately to change the conversation.

Nexholm gestured with his chin toward his superior, forcing Jomyril to face her again.

Captain Maisen grinned like a shark, causing the condemned man's anxiety to build. Finally, she cast her judgment. "I have a task for you. You are the most experienced fighter amongst the Border Patrolmen." She turned toward me. "This man here is going to enter the Initiate Division of the Melee Tournament. I would like you to spar with him, and show him some of your, shall we say, unusual techniques?"

The giant man finally turned to me and he saw me for the first time. His azure eyes stared at me with great intensity. Abruptly, he burst out in laughter. "That's a good one, captain!"

"I'm serious, Jomyril," she replied.

Seeing the serious expression on her face, he suddenly stopped laughing at me. Jomyril turned toward me again. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to disrespect you, but you don't look like a fighter, little man. You're more suited in a library than the arena," he offered his honest assessment.

I shrugged helplessly. "Let's just say that extenuating circumstances forced my dojo to name me as the representative this year," I explained. "My name is Lawrence Eugene Mulligan," I introduced myself and offered my hand.

Jomyril accepted with a firm grasp. "I'm Jomryil, as I'm sure you know by now. Come to think of it, your name sounds familiar. Where did I hear it before?" he pondered aloud.

"Oh, I'm sure it wasn't anything important," I replied hastily. He wasn't around when Maisen purposely introduced me by my full and long winded title. And I certainly didn't want another non-player character to go gaga over my lucky accomplishments. "Whenever you're ready," I added.

WHAM!

Before I knew it, my back was flat on the ground and I was seeing stars. It took a moment for me to regain my mental alertness. My nose stung but otherwise, my body seemed fine. I saw a pop-up message and it read, "-6 Health. Status: Dizziness. -10% Attack. Duration: 5 seconds." I dismissed the message as I returned to my feet. "Nice sucker punch," I sniffed casually at my attacker.

"Thank you," Jomyril replied before he tried to punch me in the nose ahead.

This time, though, I was ready for it. I ducked under his swing and speared my right shoulder into his gut like a football player. "-5 Damage." Elated by my successful counter attack, I tried to bull rush my opponent into the ground.

However, the man outweighed me by at least a few dozen pounds. Jomyril only took a few steps back before he regained control. Grabbing my shoulders, he threw a knee into my chest.

"-3 Health." Fortunately, my studded leather armor had cushioned the blow.

As a follow-up, the giant man shoved me back and tried to snap a sweep kick at me. However, Jomyril misjudged the distance between us and he kicked my left arm rather than my head as he had intended.

"-2 Health." Taking advantage of my lucky break, I quickly grabbed hold of his ankle and tried to snap a kick to his groin.

Displaying an unbelievable amount of control over his body, my opponent used his trapped leg as a pivot and launched a kick with his free leg. Again, Jomyril missed connecting with my head and hit my upper back instead.

"-6 Health." The force of the blow propelled me forward and I used the momentum to bum rush him again. Suddenly, I heard dice rattling inside my head. When they stopped, I received a pop-up notification which read, "Dexterity roll made. +50 XP." Immediately after I dismissed this message, I reached Jomyril before he regained his footing. My right shoulder slammed into his head and the momentum propelled him backward. His head was sandwiched between my chest and the ground. "Critical hit! -18 Damage. Status: Unconscious. Duration: 20 seconds. +200 XP."

I slapped his left cheek lightly to confirm that Jomyril was out cold. Then I stood up and raised my fists in the air like Rocky. I received a confirmation which read, "Duel WON. +500 XP. +100 Reputation. +200 XP."

The bystanders, Watchmen and commoners alike, cheered and applauded me. Many of them were busy exchanging coins once the outcome of this fight was settled.

Captain Nexholm knelt down next to Jomyril's head and put some smelling salt under the defeated man's nostrils.

A moment later, the giant man regained consciousness. As he sat up, Jomyril saw that I was looking down at him. "I lost?" he mumbled incredulously.

"Yup, you just lost to my pupil." Kalistra stared down at the man. It served him right, she gloated inwardly.

I looked at Maisen and then Kalistra. It was strange to see no exchange of coins between them. "No bet?" I asked hesitantly.

My master looked at me like I was an idiot. "Not when the outcome of this duel was obvious," she replied.

"Um, thanks for the vote of confidence," I replied as the fickle cat girl turned her face away again. However, I saw that her tail dangled in the air, thereby expressing her silent approval of my victory.