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Disciple of Fate
Chapter 1 - Cenn

Chapter 1 - Cenn

"It is time for the match to begin." Announced a voice from the podium.

[Finally.]

The young man glanced down at his spear, whose power he had yet to experience in actual combat.

[Zelvick, you have no idea what you're in for.]

The shabby door in front of him swung open, that was the signal - it was time to enter the arena.

A similar wooden door opened on the other side of the arena. Out of it came a small boy with a sword in his hand, running quickly to meet his opponent.

"Hoping to take the center?" - Shouting loud enough for his opponent to hear, the boy rushed toward the center of the arena, clutching his spear with both hands.

"Wind!"

Cenn heard Zelvick activate the Wind Sigil.

[First spent.]

"Fire!" But unexpectedly for Cenn, he heard Zelvick immediately activate a second sigil.

[Damn, he used both sigils at once. Okay, two can play this game].

"Shield!" Immediately, a translucent veil appeared in front of the spearman.

[I have to get a bit closer.]

"Lightning!"

A small, nimble snake of sparks crawled down the spear shaft from the young man's hands to the metal tip, dissolving into it.

[Enough.]

The opponents closed in quickly. The moment the distance between them was less than six feet, the spearman struck, aiming at his opponent's shoulder.

Just as the spear strike was about to reach its target, Zelvik struck back.

The blow was so powerful, it was as if he wanted to shatter his opponent's spear.

Boom!!!

The moment the spear and the sword clashed, a wave of flame shot from the surface of the blade towards his opponent.

The wave collided with the barely visible veil surrounding the young man before being slowed down just enough to lose its momentum

Closing his eyes against the oncoming stream of flame, the spearman shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Release!"

Immediately, a huge arc of electricity erupted from the spearhead and rushed toward the sword. It reached the sword and struck its wielder as well.

"Ouch!"

With a pitiful cry, the guy dropped the sword from his hand and fell to the ground.

"The fight is over. The winner is Cenn Bael!" - The judge's monotone voice announced.

A few spectators began to applaud. But of the few dozen people in the arena, most were disappointed by such a short fight. Only twelve seconds from start to finish.

"Ah, my arm, I can't feel it. Daddy! Daddy!"

Zelvik lay on the floor clutching his arm. He looked like he was going to cry.

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A man jumped down from the bleachers and ran over to the injured boy. Kneeling, he carefully examined the damaged arm.

"Sigh. It's nothing, it's just numb. Get up."

Zelvik's father stood and reached out to help his son up. But Zelvik remained on the ground, unwilling to get up.

Suddenly, the man kicked Zelvik hard in the butt.

"Get up, now! And stop whining, you've embarrassed me enough for one day."

[Oh, I think Zelvik will suffer today].

While Cenn stared at Zelvik's misery, a heavy hand came down on his shoulder as a familiar voice congratulated him on his victory.

"Nice hit, kid!"

Cenn awoke from his momentary stupor and smiled back.

"All thanks to your training, Uncle Hog."

"Hehehe, yeah, without it you'd definitely get your ass kicked. All right, let's get outta here."

Cenn followed his burly mentor to the same entrance he had used to enter the arena. But as if he remembered something, he looked around the tribune, as if he wanted to find someone.

"Okay, no kidding, you did good. The important thing is that you didn't let Zelvik's attack intimidate you and attacked back." Hog said.

Cenn held out his hand with the spear in front of him, admiring the pattern of wood on the shaft.

Description: A spear of blue hardwood with a point of sparking ore. 6 feet long. An unusual weapon. Properties: Sparkling ore doubles the damage done by lightning.

"I'm afraid it would not have been so easy to win without this spear."

"Nonsense! Weapons help you in battle. But only a strong warrior can unlock the potential of such a spear. In the hands of a novice, it's no better than a stick."

The man held out his hand to Cenn and pointed to the spear.

"Here." Said Cenn and handed over the spear.

The fat man took the weapon and slammed it into one of the stands of the tribune they were now under.

"That's a good one. Velin didn't pay all that money for nothing. If I'd had a spear like that when I was in the army..."

"You'd be a general by now!"

"Ah-ha-ha, yes, I'd be a general and I'd crush those damn nomads."

Cenn noticed that despite his smile, the fat man had fallen into a state of sad reverie, as he always did when he thought about the army.

"Uncle Hog, I'm really hungry, why don't we get something to eat?"

"Well, you know me, I never mind a good snack, hehe."

"How about we stop by Mrs. Torel's bakery? I'd love to get some lamb cake from her."

Cenn not only loved Mrs. Torel's food, but he also knew that Hog had been courting her unsuccessfully for the past year. So this would be the best way to satisfy his hunger and distract the fat man from thoughts of the past.

"Ahem, of course we'll go, it's the best place in this shithole."

The smile on the fat man's face grew wider. And the steps became a little faster.

...

On their way to the bakery, they noticed an old man in shabby clothes lying on one of the main streets of the city. Although Cenn would have liked to pass by and pretend not to notice the drunkard, Hog did not hesitate to approach him.

"Old fart, wake up!"

Cenn didn't have time to say a word before Uncle Hog walked over to the old man and forced him to his feet.

"Inodeus, get up! Cenn and I are coming to celebrate his victory, you must come with us!"

Hog shouted into the old man's ear without ceremony.

"Aargh, my poor head. Hog, I'm in no mood to celebrate."

[What a shame. All the passersby are staring at us...]

It wasn't the first time his old teacher had woken up in a ditch in the middle of town after a rough night at the local gambling den.

"Hey, old fart. Cenn just won his first match in the tournament. Even if you don't want to join us, you could find some kind words for the guy."

Seeing no welcome reaction from the old man, Hog shook the drunkard a few times while holding him by the collar of his robe.

"Stop shaking me, Dovor! I heard you."

Hearing his real name, the fat man frowned, but let the old man go.

Even heavily intoxicated, the man quickly realized his mistake and hastened to make amends.

"Oh, boy, I'm sorry. My old head doesn't work very well. My congratulations! Of course I'll be glad to join you."

Gathering his thoughts, the old man shook the dust off his clothes, and the trio made their way to the bakery.

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