Exill emerged into the sunlight as the announcer shouted out the contestants names, as well as what was at stake. Only about 10% of the Arena seats were filled. Unless there were big names involved in a fight, only the aficionados and gamblers bothered to observe these low-level personal disputes.
Taking all this in with a glance, he quickly spotted Envy near the front row, owing to her distinct scarlet hair. He nodded to her while confidently striding towards his opponent.
Sir Eumol marched forward wearing his standard delving gear, looking every inch the heroic knight. Exill was annoyed to find him wearing a bright red cloak, no doubt coordinated to look good standing beside Envy.
Exill grit his teeth as he [Appraised] the Knight’s gear, trying to spot any changes. The gleaming tower shield was enchanted with [Damage Resist] and [Status Resist], while the estoc had [Strength] and [Weaken] enchantments.
“Are you still determined to see this to the end?” The Knight called out.
He was vaguely aware that his object of interest had killed her previous master. However, if the pathetic shrimp somehow managed to tame her it should be effortless for a noble like him.
Sir Eumol’s respect for the kid rose as Exill nodded, resolve evident in his emerald eyes. The Knight couldn’t blame him. It would take divine intervention to pry the flame that was Envy from his grip if their position had been reversed. Unfortunately for the Witchdoctor, Eumol might as well have been a rock dragon to the weakly runt.
This was a bad matchup for the young man. Sword and shield was a natural counter to spearmen. Sure, the lad had some reach, but it took only a careful parry with a shield to leave the side wide open for a counter. The bout was heavily in favour of the Knight, and this was reflected in the bookmaker’s odds.
Facing each other, the contest began with clash of a gong.
Sir Eumol went all out from the beginning, charging forward in a shield bash, sword arm ready for a follow-up lunge. Exill had expected this as the Vampire had indicated an all-out charge was how the Knight preferred to initiate most fights.
The Witchdoctor waited for the right moment prior to activating the trump card [Haste] to sidestep the assault. This single move took less than one second in real-time and consumed nearly all his mana and a portion of vitality, but it was worth it. Activating [Weak Point] and [Steady Hand], the spear tip whistled into the joints of the Knight’s knee from behind.
Sir Eumol’s charge was stopped short as the spearhead was ripped free from his knee, taking with it a chunk of ligament. The crowd grew silent as they saw the Knight limping, trying to maintain the shield between the slowly circling spearman.
The silence turned to uproar as spectators asked each other what had happened to the Knight. Exill’s movement had been too fast for their eyes to follow and had caught them off guard. Gamblers were both ecstatic and panicked as the odds had shifted against what had been a certain victory.
Exill continued to circle the sweating Knight, forcing him to turn each time in great pain. However all was not good for the young spearman. [Haste] had suddenly drained so much from him that it took everything to maintain his balance.
Sir Eumol on the other hand could no longer put weight on his left leg, leaving his offensive capability crippled. The best he could do now was keep the shield between them and hope for an opportune counter.
The crowd booed as the minutes trickled by. The adversaries circled each other and the ground steadily growing slick with the noble's blood. A steely glare from the unwavering boy hit deep into the Knight’s heart.
‘Damn kid doesn’t care what the crowd thinks! He’s not going to attack first.’ The sinking realisation hit him like a brick.
Sir Eumol winced as he turned to face the spearman, sweat trickling down his chiselled jaw. Against such a cautious opponent there was nothing he could do, and with each passing second he grew fainter from the lack of blood. There was only one feasible option left. Sir Eumol exhaled his frustrations away, before slowly sheathing the sword and lowering his shield.
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“I concede.”
The Arena erupted as spectators exclaimed at the results. This was unprecedented! A lowly healer/warrior had defeated a Knight who was ten years his senior! Many gamblers were furious as they crushed their clay tokens under their feet, swearing at the Witchdoctor for ruining their bets.
“Tell me at least this. How did you avoid my charge?”
Exill turned around amidst the deafening furore as he was about to leave, “I’m not sure if you heard how I received my Witchdoctor job… but it appears that I’ve been blessed by the Spirit in more ways than one.”
He exited the Arena and jogged up the stairs to find Envy, face flushed, and fists clenched tightly until they were white.
“You did it.” Her amber eyes sparkled in exhilaration.
Exill beamed at her as he caught her in a tight embrace, still riding the high of victory. He felt the Vampire tense up in his arms and swiftly released her, not knowing what had come over him.
“I told you, now, let’s collect our winnings.” He replied abashedly.
A slight feeling of remorse tinged the corner of his heart as he walked towards the Arena offices. If he had gone to the Moneylender’s and taken out a 2,000 Denar loan, he would be 12,000 Denar’s richer after settling the principle amount. More could have been bet on himself winning.
Seeing the spectacular upset of this duel, he doubted there would ever be such an opportunity to increase his money sevenfold in under a day.
‘Actually, it could have gone either way... I had one shot, one opportunity with [Haste], and if that didn’t work, I would have likely lost.’ This last thought soothed some of the sting in his greedy little heart.
Exill claimed his 1,000 Denar reward from the Arena clerk as well as the 3,500 Denars from the betmaker; of which 1,100 was promptly handed over to Envy who was already ecstatic from the 700 she had won.
“Here is what I owe you for making the payment to Diallo.”
The Vampire was caught off guard at the sight of the gold and silver coin in her palm. She hadn’t expected the stingy healer to uphold his word, and the sense of trust towards him grew ever slightly more. She shot him a rare smile, overjoyed by the victory and the options now available to her.
“Mn. I’m never going to work as a waitress again.”
Exill clicked his tongue as he thought it was a crying shame. It would have been entertaining to watch her repress that murderous nature while dealing with drunks.
He left Envy to look around the stalls surrounding the Arena while he strode over to the Ticket Booth. There was a promise to Luna that required fulfilling.
“I would like two tickets for Forbidden Love.”
The clerk apologetically smiled to Exill, then proceeded to point to a freshly painted display, “I’m afraid the company has shifted to a newer production... can I interest you in this instead?”
Exill examined the new exhibit. It was titled ‘Lost Memories: the Squire and the Maiden’. The poster depicted an armoured man kneeling in front of a reluctant woman while fiery explosions erupted in the background. Exill grudgingly slid two large copper coins across. It wasn’t exactly what Luna asked for, but it would have to do, “I will take two tickets please.”
He wasn’t a big fan of war, or romance for that matter, but it was better than returning empty handed after such a victory, and for her sacrifice. He nodded as he accepted the two clay tokens slid across the stand.
The two began walking in the direction of the Clinic in high spirits, the sword of Damocles no longer weighing heavily over their heads. Half an hour later, Exill opened the door of Savta’s Clinic to find Luna pacing behind the counter.
“Are you hurt?” She rushed over to examine him, confused by the tattered state of his armour yet seeing no blood.
“Haha, I’m fine, we won!” Exill jovially laughed as he hugged her in genuine joy. He led her upstairs as he continued talking, “It was a one-sided affair, I’ll tell you more about it over lunch.”
Exill then boasted to a relieved Luna how he had bested the Knight with a single move over their simple meal, as well as how much they had earned from the bookie.
“Ah, by the way. I’m sorry but ‘Forbidden Love’ is no longer playing in the Arena.” Exill informed her as he fingered the two tickets in his pocket, hoping she wouldn’t mind going to see something else.
Luna lowered her spoon in surprise, suddenly remembering the promise he had made over a month ago. It had completely slipped her mind, with everything that had occurred.
“Ah…” she pursed her lips in disappointment.
Suddenly, her friend’s victory didn’t seem so grand, nor had anything really changed. After all, the slave would continue to live here. It was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. Exill had let her down on so many occasions that every instance of heartbreak came rushing back.
“I guess you will be going back to the Labyrinth as well...” she added listlessly.
He was confused by the sudden change in topic but leapt at the opportunity to change her mind, “Yes, I’ve got the money to buy better gear now. Defeating Eumol should prove how strong-”
“Exill...” Luna interrupted him, her voice breaking as her face grew visibly tired. She played with the ends of her hair as she searched for the right words.
“I can’t do this. I can’t watch you risk your life in the Labyrinth, nor can I play the third wheel any longer. I can’t bear to see you get injured or lie in bed with your slave. I don’t like the petty, jealous, controlling person I find myself becoming…”
Exill sat in silence as he waited for the axe to fall.
“I want you to leave.”