Chapter 91:
Umara sat nervously on the stands around the arena. Her parents and sister were to her side, as well as the Chief and several other high level spectators.
Hundreds had already gathered from out of nowhere. Most of them were students of the Martial League. Tindereye was one such student.
She wasnât worried about the amount of attention directed at John; the Magisterium and his anomalous performance had already run him through that gauntlet. She was worried more about whether John could avoid killing Tindereye.
She knew how his weapons worked better than anyone: it was incredibly difficult to reign in their power.
All that was setting aside the fact he was drunk.
She watched as he took another swig from a bottle of alcohol. She wasnât sure where he got it from. Maybe he pulled it out of his ass.
A drunken man with those weapons was a recipe for disaster. She hoped Tindereye was stronger than he looked, for his own sake.
It would be problematic if he killed someone of the Raven Family, after all.
âAllow me to establish the stakes of this duel.â
Tindereyeâs voice echoed through the stands.
âIf you lose, you will stop pursuing Lady Umara!â
âHuh? Guy, I really hope you donât actually want to make those the stakes.â
âWhy? Are you afraid of your own weakness? A Summoner isnât worthy of her hand, so you should face that reality now.â
âSon, you have no idea what youâre talking about. Iâm saying, if you make those the stakes, Iâm going to have to kill you. So donât, for your own sake.â
Shotgun in hand, John racked the slide and flung a shell skyward, nabbing it out of the air and turning it over a few times.
âThis is a slug, right? Hey, do you have armor on?â
â...I do not.â
Tindereye responded, unsure of what to make of Johnâs antics.
John looked between him and the shell a few times, making Umaraâs anxiety spike.
She shouted.
âNo slugs!â
â...Fine.â
He shrugged and tossed the shell, littering the rest over the arena floor before slotting in buckshot.
She sighed in relief, sitting back and earning her motherâs curiosity.
âWhat are slugs?â
âItâs a type of projectile his gun shoots. Theyâre meant for punching through tough armor, so if he uses them while Tindereye doesnât have armor, heâll kill him.â
âHe was serious about that?â
Looks of surprise spread on the faces of those nearby who overheard.
Umara massaged her temples.
âPlease stop underestimating him. His summons are wholly devoted to killing and he regularly fights above his Authority. Now heâs been challenged to a duel by a knight while half-drunk. If Tindereye really threatens his life, then John will kill him.â
âHm, well, at least you know heâll kill for you.â
âHow romantic.â
Feay nudged Umara with a teasing face, causing her to blush a bit while pushing back.
âUmara.â
A voice interrupted their play fight. Umara turned and found Shadowbane walking over.
She waved.
âHi Shadow.â
âSo someone is trying to unseat your man, hm? What happens if he loses?â
âHe wonât. If he does it would be on purpose.â
âThat seems like a convenient excuse. Itâs a good thing I trust you.â
Shadowbane sat down in front of Umara, resting her back on Umaraâs legs.
âLetâs just watch. Iâll step in if you want me to.â
âThank you.â
Umara smiled at her friendâs courtesy.
By now, John and Tindereye finished their preparations.
Almost 300 people had gathered in the stands, and more were still streaming in.
Umara looked around and suddenly understood why this was getting so popular.
It wasnât every day that a summoner appeared in their city, let alone one that could fight. They were all curious.
Not only that, but Tindereye was somewhat famous himself. There were rankings for each of the years at the Martial League, much like in the Magisterium Elites, and Tindereye was regularly on top. He was also a direct descendant of the Chief, giving him the same familial status as Shadowbane. He had both a name and the power to back it up.
It was the reason he was one of Umaraâs suitors. If he married her, it would strengthen the alliance between the families. And Umara wasnât particularly opposed to his character by principle.
It was precisely because of the alliance between their families that he actually treated her very well. While he may be a bit impassioned as evidenced by his eagerness to duel John, he was still a good person. It was just unfortunate for him that the two never saw much of each other given their geographical separation.
Regardless, there were several good reasons to watch this fight, and people didnât want to miss it.
Umara watched as John pulled out a pistol, holding the Trench Gun in his spare hand.
âAlright, Iâm ready.â
âAs am I.â
The two finished their preparations, and the Chief raised his arm.
âFighters ready. Fight!â
ââââ
John had taken a rather strange stance just before the match started. He wielded a pair of rather strange rods, one short, one long, that looked much like batons. Tindereye was sure this would be a rather easy victory, despite all the grandstanding John had done before; his stance was so utterly unconventional it couldnât even be called amateurish in the realm of baton-fighting. One small thing worried him though: John looked a lot more resolute and self-assured in this strange stance than a rank amateur would. However, he cast those worries aside, focusing on the upcoming fight and preparing to end it in a single slash.
But he was very soon dissuaded from the idea this would be a quick and easy battle.
A loud noise rang out the moment the Chief dropped his arm, startling both the audience and Tindereye. He didnât allow himself to be distracted by such a trick, however, and remained observant of Johnâs approach until a burning heat crawled up his gut.
Tindereye glanced down. His shirt was speckled with blood, a hole about the size of his finger staring back at him.
âAgh! That hurtâ¦â
He grunted right as the shock dissipated, paint shooting scross his tough skin.
He lifted his shirt, seeing as John only fired once.
And he saw a huge welt on his abs, more specks of blood coming out as the flattened bullet fell off.
It was naught more than a flesh wound, but it took merely an instant. Not only that, the weapon it came from was much smaller than the other one in Johnâs hand.
âCome on, bub. Letâs see how far you can get.â
Tindereye leapt out of the way just as he heard the voice, throwing off the first of Johnâs loud bangs. Two more landed before he had a chance to shift his momentum, but once he did, it threw off a few of the following shots. A momentary pause rang out and Tindereye thought John had run out of charges for whatever it was, but another bullet planted itself solidly in his gut again.
The bullets had been filled with just a little Psyka â Tindereye could feel remnants where the projectiles had hit him. He could, similarly, feel they werenât imbued with the most they could take.
John was testing him!
While he was processing this and preparing for a counterattack, a silence reigned across the arena. The audience was completely stupefied, the contrast between Tindereyeâs battered body and Johnâs confident stance contrary to all expectations.
John looked at his pistol for a second before tossing it aside, letting it vanish and raising his shotgun.
And then, to the shock of all the spectators, he walked toward the knight, longer tube pointed straight at the smoldering TIndereye.
Gritting his teeth, Tindereye considered his options. John was not only testing him, but so utterly confident in his abilities that he, a frail summoner, would approach someone perfectly capable of ending his miserable existence in a second.
He lunged.
âAgh!â
*BANG*
An even louder explosion rang out. TIndereye staggered, nearly blown backward even with all his compressed momentum flinging him forward.
Everyone watched with morbid shock as blood poured from the right side of his chest, shirt torn to tatters, holes dotting his skin. There wasnât much penetration, but it carried shocking pain.
And John didnât stop.
More explosions, accompanied by piercing pain, littered Tindereyeâs body. By the time the resounding noise subsided, his limbs and chest were covered in blood.
But a knight was nothing if not resilient. Realizing that Johnâs attacks were no more than superficial, he gnashed his teeth and charged through it.
John had made one critical mistake: he let himself into a Knightâs range.
With a burst in strength, Tindereye bound across the gap separating them, emerging from the grayish haze with sword in hand.
John snapped to attention, his woozy demeanor gone.
As soon as Tindereye landed, John let off his last shell, aiming right for his leg.
âAhh!!â
Tindereye let out a scream, his shin blooming with blood and bits of flesh.
He buckled for a moment but swiftly caught himself, using his other leg as a springboard to finish his attack.
The last uncontrolled lunge from Tindereye sealed his fate. Too late to change direction midair, he flew past Johnâs dodge to the side. A thinner tube replaced the one in Johnâs hand, a finger-sized hole blossoming through Tindereyeâs arm.
Once he finished his roll and popped back up to his feet, John chambered another round and shot again, putting a hole in Tindereyeâs thigh.
âAhh!!!â
Tindereye yelled in indignation, continuing to try and charge John. He was faster, stronger, and more durable.
But John was able to consistently put distance between them, finally taking advantage of his superior range, shooting while dodging and running. Tindereye couldnât get close without a new hole appearing on his body.
And once he ran out of ammo for his Springfield, he switched to the pistol and loaded a fresh magazine, the fresh mag dump of empowered rounds more accurate and effective than his first probing attack.
Tindereye felt his consciousness fade.
ââââââ
âHooâ¦â
He let out a long breath when Tindereye finally collapsed, heaving for breath while blood drenched his clothes and pooled on the floor underneath him.
His eyes were sharp. Umara knew he had flipped a switch as soon as Tindereye had actually challenged him.
Despite Tindereye being on the floor though, John brought out the shotgun again and loaded it with shells, keeping a close eye on him.
âStay down. I wouldnât want to blow off your leg.â
His voice was quite clear, no doubt Aura enhanced, piercing through the low murmur from the stands.
Umara, biting her thumb, suddenly heard her mother from the side.
âWell, I guess it makes sense.â
âHm? What does?â
âWell, he has more experience fighting people than Scourge beasts. Itâs no wonder he handled that fight so well.â
âI suppose... But all the knights here regularly fight each other too.â
âThatâs true. Itâs also more than possible that nobody has any idea how to fight him. If you keep your distance, heâll shoot you. If you get close, heâll shoot you with another weapon. The only way to win is to catch him by surprise or survive long enough to kill him up close. Tindereye was incapable of either.â
Talexia had gotten a relatively good grasp on how Johnâs fighting style worked.
Thatâs when Shadowbane stood and stepped down the stands, confusing Umara.
âAlright, fightâs over. Johnâs the winner.â
She announced as she jumped and landed in the arena, walking over to John.
However, when her voice reverberated in the ears of the fallen, it caused bubbling rage. Let alone when he heard all the murmurs of surprise from the stands.
A knight, losing to a summoner? It was incomprehensible. What knight could be so weak as to fall before the most useless Magus in the world?
The pain he felt told him that his loss wasnât unjustified. He couldnât so much as flex his thigh, let alone walk properly. The bits of metal still sitting inside his flesh reminded him with a constant searing pain that his life was no longer in his hands.
But Tindereyeâs indignation wouldnât allow him to stop. He raised his head, eyes full of spirit, and reached out with his hand.
How could a summoner resist his grasp? He would fall with a mere flex of the fingers.
His hand brushed by Johnâs leg, intending to grab it, though hardly having the time to.
Complex purple lines on Johnâs coat flared to life, his Aura surging out with panic and unbridled killing intent. His head and shotgun snapped downward in unison, finger on the trigger and already squeezing.
He was going to end Tindereyeâs life. He was practically screaming it to the world.
âDonât do it!â
The Chief yelled, realizing what was happening, his body flickering faster than anyone could follow.
Shadowbane was only slightly slower, her body flying so fast across the ground that dust kicked up in a thin line behind her.
*BOOM*
Everything happened all at once, everyone holding their breaths as the shot was fired directly at Tindereyeâs face.
But luckily for him, Johnâs body was ordinary. Even with the powers of his coat and mind, his body couldnât completely keep up with his thoughts, much less the Chiefâs Invigorated body.
The Chiefâs hand rested in front of TIndereyeâs face, buckshot pellets flattened across his palm.
And Shadowbaneâs sword was skewered through Tindereyeâs wrist, pushing it away from Johnâs leg.
The four were interlocked for a moment before John caught himself, muttering with a scoff.
âFuck. Way to kill my buzz. Sorry for making you move, Chief.â
âNo need to apologize. One of our students didnât know when he was in over his head. I donât blame you for reacting the way you did. Even half drunk, youâve got better instincts than most.â
âThank you, Chief.â
His face was filled with a goofy grin, conveniently explained away by the remnants of alcohol in his bloodstream. However, Umara sensed there was something more behind it than just inebriation.
Shadowbane turned to address John.
âMy turn now. Letâs do it later though.â
âIâm down. Just let me know when.â
âMm.â
She nodded, pulling her sword out of Tindereyeâs arm and causing him to yelp.
After that, some healers came and took him away.
The Chief looked around as chatter rose in the stands again.
âI announce the result of this duel as John Cooperâs complete victory! A talented Cold Summoner has appeared within the Magisterium! May his future be prosperous, and may the Scourge quake at the sound of his weapon! Invictus!â
âInvictus!â
Everyone cheered with the Chief, John looking around in confusion.
After that, everyone cleared the arena, retreating to the dining hall for the initial celebration.
â¦â¦
â¦
After the fight, Umara took away my bottle of alcohol and stuffed a cigar in my mouth. I was being forced to sober up.
Thankfully there was nobody else who wanted to duel me. If anything, I became a bit respected. There were many students from the Martial League who came to converse with me, wondering how a cold summoner, the weakest type of Magus, was able to defeat a knight like Tindereye.
With some explanations about my weapons, they were able to understand a bit more. Besides, they had all seen it in action. Some had even retrieved some of the pellets and bullets as souvenirs, passing them around.
However, shock was further amplified when they learned I was still an Authority 4, an entire level below Tindereye.
Most werenât sure what to say, while many doubted my words. I didnât bother trying to convince them though. I could only shrug and let them believe whatever they wanted to.
After an hour or so the time for conversation passed and I was allowed some reprieve. A big feast was also prepared during that time, so everyone took their place at a grand table seating over 100. That wasnât to mention the side tables holding everyone else surrounding it.
Just the waiters numbered 5 dozen, all of them rushing around to cater to their guests. Platters of meat slabs were constantly replaced as they were devoured. Wine flowed like a river, the volume consumed placing everyone solidly into âalcoholicâ territory.
I didnât partake, but it was still fun to watch.
A large chunk of the night was spent eating and drinking. It was toward the end when the Chief suddenly spoke up with a small announcement.
âDuchess and Duke Talerria. I have some gifts Iâd like you to accept. But first, I canât help but mention something I overheard. Mr. Cooper. I heard that you wanted a lute.â
âHm?â
I looked up, caught off guard by the mention of my name.
Looking around, I just nodded, making the Chief smile.
âThe six string lute you had been eyeing during the theater performance was a Bassan, and while we donât have a Bassan specifically, we have one rather similar. For your victory during the duel, Iâd like to reward you with one.â
âI-â
(Accept it! Donât deny his generosity.)
I heard Umara hastily command within my mind, preventing me from denying the gift, as I had just been about to do.
As I was silent, a butler brought out the instrument. It was carried in what was essentially a guitar case, and when he presented it, I saw the instrument within.
It was very similar to a guitar, with six strings and a body that could be comfortably held within oneâs arms. So while the shape wasnât the same, a bit slimmer than a normal acoustic, it still looked to have the same function with the sound hole and frets.
However, it was incredibly nice. The wood was an odd deep blue bordering on black, and the strings were made of slightly golden metal. There were also some enchantments across its back.
The craftsmanship was extraordinary. I couldnât help but reach out, too excited to use it.
I grabbed it out of the held case, taking it in my arms and plucking a few strings, letting their somewhat unfamiliar notes play across my ears.
*Thrum*
After a bit of tuning, I ran my thumb across all six, hearing that familiar blissful sound, smiling contentedly.
âItâs amazing. Thank you, Chief.â
âIâm glad it meets your standard. Now, allow me to present the Talerria family with their gifts.â
With his word, more butlers appeared with items in hand.
I looked up, interested to see what they would get.