“What do you think, buddy, any place look interesting to you?” asked Leone as he and Azim walked the busy streets of Garrison.
“There are many places of interest, though I am unsure which would provide us with results,” replied the robot. “What exactly did you have in mind again?”
Relieving a sigh, the young man explained that he was itching for a good fight, and figured a fight club might pose a good opportunity to make some quick cash. The two were walking through the neighborhoods looking for any places that might be offering a cash prize in exchange for good old-fashioned entertainment, like the one he had tried out in Appilus. As they strolled, the young man pointed them out to the robot, mentioning that some were cheesy entertainment establishments that were advertised publicly, while others were more serious and subsequently a bit more underground. Per Riva’s wishes, Leone clarified that they would only keep an eye out for the more public ones.
As the two adventurers turned the corner, they were surprised to see some kind of altercation underway in the middle of the street ahead of them. An elf man was standing in front of a slightly cowering elf woman, and was facing a rather intimidating batten. The half-bat was notably taller than the elf, his wings stretched out to appear even larger, like a frilled lizard fanning the skin on its neck. Three others were standing behind the batten, though they were very much in the background of the scene, suggesting to Leone that they were just the tall stranger’s groupies. One was a human woman, and the other two were feliome men. Meanwhile, everyone else in the street had ushered off to the side, trying to stay as far away from the conflict as possible.
“Please, sir, we already apologized,” the elf man stammered to the bat-like stranger in front of him. “Just please let me and my wife go.”
“Now see, I don’t think I can do that, not until you’ve repaid your debt,” grinned the tall batten.
“I’ve given you all the gold we had with us, but we don’t have anything else,” pleaded the elf. “Even at home, we don’t have much. We live in the southeast district, we just like to come through this part of the city when we walk. Please, sir, I don’t know what we can do for you.”
“I told you what you can do. And what you’re going to do. Repay your debt. You spilled your stupid drinks all over my nice jacket. It’s ruined. Do you get that? Ruined!”
The batten turned to speak to his cronies, “Do you guys think he gets that?”
“I don’t think he gets that,” they all took turns answering.
“Anyway,” the thug resumed, returning his attention to the elves, “that sad little pouch of gold pieces doesn’t even come close to clearing your debt. So if you don’t want to make this worse for yourselves, I suggest you—“
The batten was interrupted by the sight of a newcomer stepping into the street. He had not noticed him walking up, he had just figured anybody walking by would be walking past. But his strange individual had come into the street and gotten between him and the elf. Who was this fool? Why was he concerning himself with something that had nothing to do with him? The batten was growing angry.
“Please stop berating this man,” the metal-coated stranger finally spoke. “From the sound of things, an accident occurred, and he both apologized and provided some money in an effort to make up for it. There is no reason for you to push any further, at least not with this intimidating demeanor.”
“What are— Who are you to tell me anything?!” snapped the half-bat. “Get the hell out of here before I take care of you, too!”
“I am simply asking that you accept the man’s apology and move on. This altercation is not worth his stress, nor is it worth your time and energy.”
Now the batten was really ticked. “I’ll show you what’s worth my time. Windairius!”
With the winged thug’s incantation and a forceful flick of his right hand, Azim was sent flying into the wall of a nearby building. Concrete tumbled into pieces as he hit the structure, gray powder floating into the air. The robot assessed that some form of wind current had manifested near him and shoved him into the wall. It had seemed to match the direction of the batten’s hand movement.
As he started to climb out of the hole he had just created, the batten thug cast the same spell in the same direction, pushing Azim even further into the already crumbling building. The winged man smiled.
Returning his attention to the nervous elf, the batten saw that there was another pest in his way. A lean, dark-skinned human with twists in his black hair, wearing a cropped leather jacket. Most notably, a scar across the bridge of his nose. Had he been accompanying the other imposer? Come to think of it, what had that other guy been? A knight, maybe? Ah whatever, it doesn’t matter now, he resolved.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Are you, too, just as disturbed by this injustice?” The tall batten mocked as the young man faced him.
“Hm? Oh nah, nah,… my buddy over there will right that wrong,” Leone retorted, pointing to the smoking hole in the wall. “I’ve just gone a bit too long kicking someone’s ass.”
The batten shot a glare at Leone. With a lift of both arms, he chanted, “Windairius!”
Leone was 15 meters in the air not even 2 seconds later, tumbling in the updraft as he flew. The winged thug watched the young man down below with a slight smirk, thinking, That’s what you get for trying to be a hero.
Irritation set in as the batten noticed up above, having stopped tumbling, the young man looking back down at him, smiling wildly. He had just reached the peak of his ascent and was about to start falling, and yet he looked eager to come back down. The batten smacked his wings to the ground and shot up after Leone. As he flew, he clasped his hands together and pulled them apart, a short sword materializing between them. The sword was no more than two feet long, made up of shiny bronze and a hand-wrapped handle. Upon summoning the weapon, the incoming batten grabbed it with his right hand and reeled it back.
Leone made note of the spell he had just witnessed before pulling out his secret dagger and blocking the batten’s midair strike. As their blades clashed, the cocky young man quipped, “Easy man, I’m dealing with your lackeys, not you. Wait your turn.”
Just then, Leone rolled off the pressed blades, pushing into his opponent and flipping behind him. As he did, he grabbed one of the batten’s wings, dragging them both down to the ground earlier than his attacker had anticipated. Despite being caught off guard, the batten thug eventually got ahold of himself and pushed against the fall of his tugged wing, slowly their descent. Acting like a parachute for Leone, the young man simply chirped “thanks” and let go, landing softly on the ground. The now-stabilized man-bat fluttered in the air for a moment, watching as the young man rushed forward to take on his three companions. He was about to rejoin the fight and ambush Leone from behind, but he felt a strange, pulling pressure coming from the sword in his hand.
Before he could process what was happening, the short sword was ripped from his grasp, flying straight toward the crater of rubble he had sent the metal stranger. To his astonishment, there was the metal man standing next to the building perfectly unfazed, and holding the batten’s own weapon in his hand.
“Hey! Give that back!” shouted the flying man.
“I apologize,” Azim replied. “Here you are.”
With an over-articulate move of his arm, Azim chucked the sword back at the half-bat like a dart, sending it screaming through the air until it shot through the batten’s wing. Instantly, the robot’s opponent dipped, losing balance in the air. Before he could recover too much, he saw the silver-coated stranger raise his arm toward him and chant, “Scrap Return.”
Flying back from behind him, the short sword clipped the top of the already injured wing and landed back into Azim’s hand. The surprise attack dropped the batten to the ground completely. He paused, glaring at the metal man with ferocity.
“I do not wish to fight if it could be avoided,” Azim made clear. “I simply wish to ensure the safety of the two individuals you were harassing. This does not have to drag on any longer.”
“Alright, alright, jeez… I’ll back off alright?” huffed the injured batten. “I’ve got to head to the Brick House anyway, I don’t wanna miss it. But this isn’t over, asshole. I’ll be back for you, after.”
As the winged man turned to leave he noticed what his posse had been up to, and it was not good. Leone stood by himself, the three others completely knocked out. There were a few items and bottles littered about, several bruises on the faces of the batten’s goons, but Leone was perfectly fine. The only blemish he had that even suggested there had been any difficulty was a slight bruise on his left hand, though it looked like he had been the one responsible for it.
“Wha— What… did you do… to my companions?!”
“What?” Leone asked confused. “They kept bragging about how they had baseline magic levels of 15 and that I should ‘be careful, boy’, so I figured they could handle it! Turns out, either they were lying or 15 is still pretty weak!”
“Oh, this so isn’t over! I may be done with those impoverished losers back there, but you two? Oh, I’m going to enjoy taking care of you! Just you wait!”
With those final words, the batten brushed past Leone, setting something down onto each of his unconscious companions, and continued walking, leaving them behind. Leone was curious for a moment but quickly ignored it. Catching up to Azim, the young man asked if the robot was alright, to which Azim assured he was “perfectly satisfactory”. The two checked in with the elf couple, who thanked them graciously for the help.
Leone told them they didn’t have to mention it, before pulling out a small pouch from inside his jacket. “Here, I banned this from that guy when we were falling. It’s yours, isn’t it?”
“Oh yes, thank you!” responded the elf man graciously. “But you should really take some, I mean that was incredible, please just—“
Azim cut off the man to say, “This money belonged to you before that man took it, and it belongs to you after. Us returning it does not make it any less yours.”
The man stammered, unsure what to say, so his wife leaned in to say, “Thank you, both of you. We are truly grateful.”
Wrapping up their goodbyes with the couple, the two continued walking and talking. Leone picked up a few things from the fallen groupies before they left, but none of it was gold. He asked Azim what the batten had said before turning to leave, which prompted the robot to inform him of “the Brick House”. Leone grumbled for a moment, unsure what or where that was. He paused, then, told Azim to wait a second, assuring the android he would be right back. After a few seconds, he caught back up with Azim to let him know he had asked the elf couple if they knew of the Brick House, and they had told him it was an arena a few blocks down.
“Is there something you are suggesting we do with this information?” questioned Azim.
“Don’t you get it, buddy?” Leone rambled with a sly smile. “They’ve got a fight going on where we can earn some cash, and while we’re there, we can pay that guy a visit. He would absolutely flip his lid if we were there. Plus he said he would see us again. So I think… it’s only right if we show up.”