by Michael Sisa
“You arrived almost three days ago, correct?” said Lark. “Had I not intercepted this invading army during that time, this town would have already been under the beastmen’s territory.”
Lark’s voice was cold as he added, “Even with a thousand soldiers, if you confronted these guys head-on, without weakening them for a bit, you will surely have hundreds of casualties.”
Commander Daltos’ veins popped up. “Don’t be so arrogant, kid. You won against those bastards through sheer luck. That’s all. And if a greenhorn like you managed to defeat them, maybe those beastmen aren’t much at all?”
Through his amplified senses, Mikael noticed the subtle smirk of Lark. His eyes were dancing, as though he was waiting for this particular statement.
“Sheer luck, huh? Well, luck is part of one’s skills, Commander.” Lark shrugged and chuckled. “Then why don’t we have it this way? Choose your five best soldiers – including you. Let’s have a friendly match.”
“A friendly match,” Daltos repeated.
“That’s right. A friendly match,” said Lark. “If you win, I’ll keep my mouth shut. I'll let you take full command of this war. But if you lose, you will obey all of my commands. How about it?”
There was a momentary pause. Daltos replied, “Fine. But don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re a noble.”
“Of course,” chuckled Lark. “Is half an hour of preparation enough? Let’s battle it out in front of all the soldiers. It’ll be more interesting and convincing that way.”
Daltos clenched his fists. “Of course. So it’ll be a six versus six battle then. I will not hold back, so don’t take it against me later, kid.”
Lark lightly tilted his head. “Six versus six? No. I’m the only opponent.”
He added playfully, “All six of you will come at me at the same time. Make sure to do your best, Commander.”
Chapter Nineteen
News quickly spread like wildfire. The entire town was in uproar upon hearing that the Young Master was going to battle the Commander of the soldiers from Lion City. Hundreds of locals gathered outside the town. Including the soldiers camped outside, over a thousand people gathered to spectate the fight.
Commander Daltos breathed deeply. Looking at the young noble, he knew this fight would be easy. After all, he was well aware of the rumors surrounding Lark Marcus. A pampered noble like him would know nothing about fighting, moreover about war. This was why he could not simply hand over his authority over his men.
“Commander,” the soldier beside him said. “There’s no need for you to fight that brat. He said it’s six versus one? How stupid. Just one of us would be more than enough.”
The other soldiers nodded. These five men next to him were the strongest soldiers in this small army. Elites who could utilize mana. Even defeating a knight from the Royal Family was feasible if these five combined their strengths.
“We’ll lose face if we all fight him together,” said another. “Please allow just one of us to fight.”
This was also the same thought Daltos had in his mind. Indeed, in front of a thousand soldiers, fighting the noble with all six of them would be nothing but an embarrassment. They would become a laughing stock. They did not want to become branded as soldiers who bullied the naive young man.
But something bothered Daltos at the back of his mind.
Those corpses.
He has seen the heads of those beastmen. Most of them had their heads cleanly cut, clearly displaying the skills of the one who slaughtered them.
Daltos gazed at Lark. He scrutinized him from head to toe.
There’s hardly any mana flowing through his body. He’s just like the rest of these locals. If he’s unable to use mana, then…
His gaze shifted to the man next to Lark. A handsome man with golden hair. He was around two meters tall, and his stoic expression gave the impression of a battle-hardened individual.
What was his name again? Anandra?
Daltos came to the conclusion that that man must have been the one responsible for the cleanly cut head of those corpses. The mana leaking out of the man’s body was palpable and crude, as though he did not know how to suppress it at all. Out of all the soldiers serving under Lark Marcus, this man was the only noteworthy opponent possible.
“Commander.” A soldier reported. “The preparations are complete. We can start the battle at any moment.”
“Time sure flies fast,” mumbled Daltos. He did not realize that half an hour had already passed by. He said to the five soldiers next to him. “Let’s go.”
The moment Daltos and his five strongest soldiers made their appearance, everyone went into uproar. All eyes were glued to them as they made their way towards a large clearing. At its center, Lark Marcus was already waiting.
Lark smiled at him. “It’s a pleasure to have a friendly match with you, Commander. Shall we start?”
Daltos noticed the circle drawn on the ground. Its diameter was probably twenty meters, by estimate.
“I will warn you again,” said Daltos. “We will not hold back just because you’re a noble.”
Lark’s smile remained plastered on his face. He nodded once. “Of course.” He said to his men, “Give them their swords.”
Wooden swords were handed out to Daltos and his hand-picked soldiers. Upon gripping it tightly, they realized it was well-made, probably crafted out of Black Elk Wood. An expensive commodity sold in Lion City.
“The rules are simple,” said Lark. Everyone silently listened as he raised his voice. “It’ll be a six versus one battle. Whoever steps out of this circle automatically loses the fight. The same goes for anyone who could no longer stand up or fight. And since this is just a friendly match, killing isn’t allowed. That’s why everyone is handed those practice swords. Instead of real ones, we’ll be using them in this fight. As for the reward – the winner shall obey the loser. In simpler terms, if I win, I will be granted full command of this army.”
As expected. This young lord feared for his life. This was probably the reason why he chose to use wooden swords instead of real ones in this fight. Moreover, he added those rules, which ensured his safety in this battle.
Well, it was a wise decision, Daltos thought.
“And if we win?” said Daltos. He wanted all of his soldiers to hear it.
“I will not intervene with the military matters any longer,” said Lark. “And to make things interesting, I’ll add an additional fifty gold coins on top of that.”
The last statement stirred the crowd. It was a magnanimous reward for a mere friendly fight. Some of the soldiers even wished they were included among the participating five.
“We accept,” said Daltos. Although the additional reward was enticing, he was more interested in showing the brat the reality of war. He was too arrogant to request his best soldiers to fight him all at once. “But there’s no real need to do a six versus one fight.”
“Brahim,” said Daltos.
A soldier wearing full leather armor stepped forward upon the mention of his name.
“He’s more than enough to fight you. There’s no real need for the rest of us to go, isn’t that right?”
Lark’s eyes glimmered for a moment. “So you’re telling me that you wish to fight me in a one versus one battle instead?”
“That’s right,” said Daltos. Fighting the young noble with all six of them combined would be a humiliating act.
Lark sighed. “I see.” He entered the circle. “Come.”
The moment the two were inside the make-do arena, the soldiers cheered. Some even started betting on who will win. And as Daltos expected, most of the bets were on Brahim.
“Come at me anytime.” Lark’s wooden sword remained dangling on his waist.
Brahim did not like this. He creased his brows. He looked at Daltos, and received the signal that it was okay to beat the noble to a pulp.
The sound of the horn was heard. He started his dash.
With swift
movements, he quickly reached Lark. Instead of pulling out his wooden sword, he balled his fists. He wanted to his punch this noble and bring him back to reality. That, surely, would be satisfying to watch.
“Wha—”
But before his fists could even reach Lark, Brahim suddenly found himself thrown up into the air. Using his quick reflexes, he spun around three times and landed on the ground.
“You’ve lost,” said Lark. “Next.”
It took him a couple of seconds before he realized that he had been thrown out of the circle – out of the Arena. Brahim froze. He could feel the eyes of everyone on him.
Unable to contain the gazes any further, he protested, “But the fight hadn’t even started yet!’’
Lark scratched his cheeks. “It’ll be bothersome if you guys can’t even adhere to the rules. It was stated clearly, right? Whoever steps outside this circle automatically loses the fight.”
Brahim did not know how Lark did it, but he was suddenly thrown into the air and out of the arena without even a fight. He looked at Daltos. The Commander was clearly displeased of the outcome of the battle.
“Brahim, that’s enough,” said the Commander. “It’s your loss.”
Brahim hanged his head low. “Yes, Sir.”
Commander Daltos deeply breathed in. Although everything happened in a flash, he was able to clearly see everything. The young noble used some kind of martial art to redirect the force of Brahim’s punch and use it to throw him into the air instead.
For some reason, it reminded him of the Martial Arts of the Savages. The one passed down by the God of Fighting in the legends.
Just to be sure, he warned his men, “He probably studied from the Leonard Academy. Be careful.”
The remaining soldiers nodded. “So that’s why he’s so cocky, huh? But it takes ten years before one graduates from that Academy. So surely, he hadn’t learned all of their techniques. A drop out, maybe.”
The Martial Arts of the Savages was considered one of the three strongest Martial Arts in the entire continent. After the Savage Clan became part of the Kingdom fifty years ago, their teachings naturally spread far and wide. The Leonard Academy, named after the Fighting God, was considered the best school teaching their art.
According to experts, a graduate of the Leonard Academy could go toe to toe with a low ranking knight even without utilizing mana.
Just the fact that Lark Marcus may be a former student of that Academy made the elite soldiers serious about this match.
“So, who’s next?” said Lark. He had yet to pull his wooden sword out, and this greatly infuriated everyone.
Another soldier stepped inside the circle.
“Hey, I’m giving you guys the chance to come at me all at once.” Lark sighed.
“There’s no need for that.” The soldier cracked his knuckles. “So you know a bit of Martial Art, huh?” He leaned forward, ready to strike at any time.
The horn was blown.
The soldier stomped his feet on the ground and shot towards Lark. The spectators around them held their breaths as the soldier pulled the wooden sword from his waist. He was about to strike the noble when the figure in front of him suddenly disappeared.
He felt a hand grab his shoulder, and just like Brahim, he was thrown into the air. He hit the ground and rolled several times before halting to a stop. He gingerly stood up, groaning. He noticed that he was also thrown out of the arena.
What was happening? Everyone were obviously as baffled as he was. After Brahim’s defeat, he had been cautious of the noble’s Martial Arts.
“Next.” Lark’s voice tore through the silent crowd.
One after another, the so-called ‘elite’ soldiers in the army were thrown out of the arena. They did not even manage to land a single hit to their opponent. After all five of them lost the battle, Daltos snarled, “Stupid bastards! You can’t even defeat someone who can’t use mana!”
The five soldiers lowered their heads in embarrassment.
Daltos entered the circle. He saw Lark chuckling. “What’s so funny?” A vein popped on his head.
“Everything,” said Lark. He looked at the five soldiers he recently defeated. “Tell me, Commander. All six of you are capable of using mana, correct?”
Daltos did not like the condescending voice of the noble. “That’s right. So what?”
“Then why did none of them use mana in their fight against me?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Why should they use mana on someone like you, who can’t even use the simplest forms of magic?”
Lark paused for several seconds, his eyes scrutinizing the Commander. “This is the limit of the Commander… I see.”
Daltos was sure that the noble was referring to his innate ability; his ability to command his soldiers. Quickly, he turned livid. He trembled in fury at the thought that someone who could not even use offensive spells was mocking him right now.
“So you want us to use mana, huh?” he snarled. “Fine!”
Daltos chanted his magic. Slowly, a magic circle formed underneath his feet, and his entire body was soon engulfed in flames. His eyes turned crimson and predatory. The soldiers around them gulped. In the Lion City, there was no one who did not know the name: Fire Golem. The magician protected by the element of fire. As long as he was covered by those flames, ordinary swords and arrows were rendered useless.
The one holding the horn used to signal the start of the battle froze. He did not want to blow it. If he did, the Young Lord might die from this battle.
Upon seeing the Commander glaring at him, he nervously swallowed. And after several seconds of hesitation, he blew the horn.
The sound felt ominous, as though it carried the death of the noble with it.
Daltos roared and charged towards the Young Lord.
“Not bad.” Lark pointed a finger at the charging beast. “But Commander Azura’s far stronger than that.”
The ground beneath Daltos formed cracks, and in a split second, caved in. Daltos’ eyes widened in surprise upon seeing a magic circle forming in the sky. As his body was being swallowed by the ground, several orbs of lightning started forming out of thin air, right beneath the magic circle. They crackled for a moment then shot towards him.
Magic?! And two elements at once?!
With his body still being swallowed by the ground, he was unable to dodge the orbs of lightning. He was continuously struck one after another. Despite his so-called impregnable armor of fire, he groaned in pain after each impact. Each of those orbs of lightning pummeled him deeper into the ground, and those that managed to penetrate his armor scorched his flesh.
The barrage of attacks continued until Daltos was half-dead, almost unconscious.
Silence befell everyone. They all stared at the Commander lying on the ground, unmoving, then at Lark. Since he did not use mana in his fight against the five elites, they came to the conclusion that he was incapable of offensive magic. That was why when the Commander charged at him, his body enclosed in flames, they thought of the worst ending.
But reality gave a different picture, entirely.
“Announce the winner,” said Lark.
The man holding the horn nervously gulped. “Y-Yes.” He raised his voice. “T-The winner is… The Young Lord!”
Loud cheers suddenly erupted. The soldiers from Lion City realized it came from the locals living in this town. The children, especially, were the loudest.
“Young Master! Young Master! Young Master!”
“Young Master! Young Master! Young Master!”
They did not expect Lark to be this popular among the populace. And judging by their reactions, it seemed that they all knew that Lark was this strong.
Lark pointed a finger at the ground. It started moving and spat Commander Daltos out. Lark approached the leader of the army.
“Still alive?” said Lark.
Daltos replied with a groan.
“You’re pretty tough. As expected.” Lark took out a small vial fro
m his pouch. “This is a middle-grade potion. Drink it.”
Just right when he was about to make Daltos drink the liquid, Big Mona came running. “Wait!”
The fat man ran so fast that he ended up huffing, almost sliding down the ground several times. Numerous beads of sweat flowed down his face.
“Wait!” repeated Big Mona. “Middle-Grade Potion?! I want to see it! I want to see with my own eyes what it’s like!”
Lark stared at the fat merchant for a moment, before he resumed giving the medicine. After Daltos emptied the vial, the scorched areas on his body started dissipating, as though they were being erased by an invisible hand. His face also started regaining its color.
Slowly, he sat up. He shook his head twice and stared at his hands. He mumbled, “My wounds… are all gone.”
He could not believe that a potion was capable of this. Even the medicines sold in the Capital were not this effective.
Big Mona was salivating as he looked at Lark. “You still remember our deal, right?”
“Of course,” said Lark. “You’ll be fully compensated once this war is over.”
Big Mona shrieked. “Yes! As expected! Coming personally to this small town is worth it!”
Lark tapped the fat merchant’s soldier. “Let’s think about that later. For now, we must do our best to survive.” He looked at Daltos. “Commander, I think it’s clear who won this fight.”
Daltos clenched his fists. “Yes.”
Lark breathed in. “Do you know the reason why you lost?”
Daltos looked at him quizzically.
“You and your men are going to be vital in the war to come. It’s important for you to understand your mistakes here and now.” Lark raised three fingers. “You’ve made three mistakes. First, you forgo the opportunity to fight me six versus one. There are no definite rules in war, Commander. It is not cowardly to fight an opponent using overwhelming numbers.”
Daltos remembered the time when Lark suggested a six versus one battle. He had been too arrogant. Thinking that his opponent was nothing but a brat, he chose to fight him one-on-one.
“Second, you did not seek information about your opponent beforehand,” said Lark. He tapped the shoulder of Big Mona. “This guy here knows I’m capable of offensive magic. The reason why I gave you half an hour of preparation is because of this.”