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Memory Seal
Chapter 12

Chapter 12

In the darkness, a lone figure could be seen, going through the motions of weaving, dashing, and slashing through invisible enemies.

After a few minutes of this, Gust came an abrupt halt and gasped for breath.

“I swear, I’m really out of shape.”

Years of poor dieting and lack of continued training had clearly dulled Gust’s movements. Nonetheless, he continued his exercises, and as the night continued, his movements became more fluid as his muscle memory returned to him.

In fact, he became so focused in his training that he only returned to where Wesley had been sleeping a few minutes before Wesley woke up.

Hearing Gust’s movements next to him, Wesley said, “Hey Gust, good morning.”

“Morning to you too, little man.”

Gust pulled some bread out of his bag and handed some of it to Wesley. “I managed to hunt down a rabbit this morning. You want some?”

“Mhmm.”

As Gust skinned the rabbit and otherwise prepared it to be cooked, he began to prod Wesley’s interest with his latest idea.

“Hey kid, what do you think about participating in some fighting contests along the way to your family’s place? We can make some money to spend nights in rooms, buy some new clothes. I can participate in some fighting tournaments, while you’re pretty good at magic, right?”

Thinking about it, Wesley was fairly enticed, but he wasn’t sure how well he would be able to fight any magic duels. After all, although he’d participated in competitions at the Western Conarite Institute of Magic, it wasn’t as though he’d been a prodigy. Furthermore, their teacher Mr. Clayde had been there to guarantee their safety.

However, Gust had a secret weapon waiting. “Heck, if we make enough, maybe we could buy some really tasty food. It’s been a long time since I’ve ha-”

“These contests sound great! Where can we participate?”

With a smirk, Gust ruffled Wesley’s hair. “Knew you’d come around. Anyway, the Kenta Kingdom is full of stupid muscle heads, but we’re almost at the Larwin Kingdom. They several competition venues in each city, as well as some of the larger villages - they’re there to attract talent to the Kingdom. The payouts are pretty decent if you’re able to win several fights in a row.”

“That sounds great and all, but don’t you suck at fighting?”

“...Don’t you have any faith in me?”

“Yes, but not when it comes to fighting. Isn’t your plan just for me to do all the work?”

Gust facepalmed. Was this really what Wesley thought of him? He’d simply thought that the contest venues would be a convenient way for him to retrain his fighting skills and to earn some money at the same time.

Instead, he’d learned that Wesley thought that he was a weak pile of trash.

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Wonderful.

After some more squabbling, the two ate the freshly cooked rabbit, then set off again.

A few days later, they came across a large village in the Larwin Kingdom. After asking around a bit, Gust learned that while the village did have a competition venue, and there were prizes for winning, the village’s payouts for winners was rather low, hence the level of competition was also very low.

Which was fine, for Gust and Wesley. To be fair, neither of them knew how they would match up against skilled opponents, so to hear that they would most likely be fighting against weaklings cheered them up a bit.

As for money, beggars can’t be choosers. They weren’t just poor, they were out of money! On the plus side, if you achieved a five-win winning streak, the village would provide you with free housing.

However, you would lose this housing as soon as you lost.

After finishing off the last of their bread, they made their way to the competition venue, a small stadium that in a corner of the village. The arena looked to be big enough to only host small skirmishes, while the entire stadium only looked to seat a few hundred.

For a village with only a few thousand residents, it was enough. As for Gust and Wesley, it was a promise of a roof over their heads for a night, and a satisfying, properly cooked meal.

But only if they won.

Gust and Wesley walked up to a ticketing booth near the entrance to the stadium.

The ticketer addressed the two. “Hello there. 1 gold coin apiece, please.”

“Hey.” Gust addressed the ticketer, a medium aged woman. “We’re not here to watch, we’re here to fight.”

“Oh?” The woman looked Gust up and down, then turned and looked at Wesley.

“I see… well, go in and open the first door on the right. You can register for fights there.

“Thanks.”

As the two left, the woman scoffed, derision in her eyes. “A few more punching bags.”

Gust and Wesley followed the woman’s instructions and entered the registration office. A very obese man looked up and addressed them with a very bored tone.

“Registering for the arena?”

“Mhmm.”

“Ages and combat styles?”

“I’m sixteen wonderful years of age. Knives. My friend over here is…” Gust paused - he actually wasn’t sure how old Wesley was.

“Uh, I’m seven years old. Nearly eight. I’m a mage initiate.”

“Oh?” Hearing that Wesley could use magic, the man sat up, intrigued. However, once he paid closer attention to Wesley, he instantly noticed that the kid was blind.

Disappointed, he leaned back in his chair. While the Larwin Kingdom would have rewarded him for “discovering” a talented young mage, but a mage was no use if he was blind.

“Well, alright. You, fighter, you’ll be on stage in half an hour. You’ll be fighting one of regulars. He’s not a great fighter or anything, but has a fair amount of experience. He’ll be a good test for you.”

“As for you, kid, you’ll be going against a Rank 1 Elementary Mage. We don’t have any initiates here, so you’ll have to make do. You’ll be fighting tomorrow morning.”

He then looked back toward Gust. “Any questions?”

“Yeah, are we fighting with real weapons?”

“Of course. It’s more entertaining for the audience that way. What, you scared?” The fat man smirked.

“No. I have another question. Is killing permitted?”

“Hmm?” The fat man narrowed his eyes. “Yes…”

‘This kid is awfully confident…’

“Alright, thanks.”

Gust and Wesley left the office, then headed for the stands.

“Hey, little man.”

“Yes, Gust?”

“You heard the man, right? Killing is allowed here. You still okay with fighting?”

“Yes.” Wesley answered without a hint of hesitation.

“For your family?”

“Yes.”

A sad smile hung on Gust’s face. “Atta boy.”