PATRIARCH FOWL
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Casual Heroing, Chapter 174
🕑 Added 2023-08-26 19:58:51 +0000 UTCNext chapter comes out Sunday, August 27th!
WHO SCREAMS IN A MOMENT LIKE THAT?! 🔫🔫🔫
6/7 chapters this week!
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Chapter 174 – Duel
Appius walks inside the arena with his arms spread out, and the lukewarm cheers that I had managed to gather are now taken over by the overwhelming support for the Elf. I, instead, stink like crazy from all the rotten shit they have thrown at me. We are two diametrically opposing pictures.
It's fine; it's his people, I acknowledge. My people could have brought a banner or two, heh, but let's not nitpick.
The loud cheering has a hard time dying down, and Appius revels in it, barely looking at me and instead doing a couple of spins to take in the entire arena. Some women even throw flowers his way.
Ok, that made me jealous.
However, my mind is going over the stupid details because there's one big thing that weighs on me—and no, it's not my penis. Wait, what? The sword? No, it's obviously not the sword, either. You'd have had a better guess the first time around.
Killing Appius, I think to myself. That's the problem.
As the man walks in, I notice that his leather armor is thoroughly unimpressive. I had expected something much more solemn than this for our showdown, but he is dressed like you would expect from the most unimportant [Soldier] in the military. He's got a normal sword at his side, maybe with some Enchantments, and a big shield; the big shield is the only feature from his entire attire worth noting. The rest is… meh.
It's not great to have this feeling of standing in front of a slightly richer peasant and having to slaughter him—yes, that's what it’ll be if I decide to go for the kill. I know Appius might be strong, but if you think for one second that a faux-level 20 [Champion] Vanedeni Golem and an Elf like Appius could be remotely on the same level, I have bad news for you. The old man has explained to me the great differences in levels between stronger and weaker classes—it turns out that one can have thirty levels in one class and still be weaker than someone who has five levels in a much better class. Classes and skills have different ranks based on their color, and training with a Vanedeni means that I was held to the highest standards.
Still, what am I going to do?
Magister Mulligan did a whole ritual with the sword, and it was cool, but… am I ready to kill the motherfucker? Like, don't get me wrong, I am not against killing. It's the most common thing in human history, and only very recently have some parts of the world taken an issue with it. Being a practice so old and established, one would think it makes sense to take a life. I'm not here to discuss whether it's ethical or not; I'm wondering if I'm capable of it.
I won’t pull the trigger and see the body drop—that'd be easy. Too easy, perhaps. But the point is, my sword will have to bisect, skewer, or behead this man. I only have one of these three, all three very violent and graphic options. Guns, in comparison, are the cleanest way of killing you could hope for—unless we are talking about shotguns.
Do I have it in me to kill this man?
"Hey, worm!" Appius laughs his ass off as he walks closer to me, raising an eyebrow when he sees the handle of the sword above my head. "A fake Vanedeni sword? Really? You think that is going to save you?"
"You know, worm, I can't wait for someone to tell your dog mother—"
Well, perhaps I do have it in me to kill the man, I think with narrowed eyes.
Appius’s words fizzle out of my reality as I activate [Deep Focus].
No, I can't kill someone just because they are being an asshole, can I? It's crazy even to think something like that. That's not a good enough reason.
What is, then?
My mother used to say that the people we should remove from society are those who are a danger to the community. When that thought strikes me, I turn to look at the bleachers again.
They are pretty big, all considered, and I can't really find all the people I'd like to see there. Surprisingly enough, though, my eye almost immediately catches Lucinda.
My heart skips a beat when I see the red mane in the crowd, and almost instinctively, I raise my hand. Noticing my salute, she waves in return and then balls her fist in the air—some gesture of encouragement.
Her hair reminds me of blood, I find myself thinking. A moment later, I see another redhead, a deeper red, standing on one of the boots in the arena. She has a rather pale complexion but sharp facial features.
Damn, that woman is seriously beautiful, I tell myself.
Oh, come on, Joey, focus! [Deep Focus]!
Right, right.
To kill or not to kill the idiot.
Let's not call him the racist. Every other Elf in this arena is racist. Having one more or one less of those is not important enough to kill Appius over.
A man dressed in robes steps between us and raises both his hands, the crowd suddenly spurred to be quiet by [Guards] on the bleachers.
Wait, is that Truffles? I smile and wave at the blond. And are those his parents?
Two extremely good-looking people stand by his side, a man and a woman. They barely look any older than their son, but that could check out if they are indeed so high-level, like Truffles said.
Wait, is that Arminius?
I see the homeless dude whom I have almost completely forgotten about.
Right, he set me up, didn't he?
Why is he not cheering for Appius, though? He's just there silently.
Where are the two that I saw before on the balcony with Plinius, by the way?
I look around, but I don't see the two figures in any of the booths.
Huh, that's weird. I get to see Appius only in the arena, and the two most villainous-looking people are not even here?
"Worm! Are you ready to die?!"
"Excuse me," the robed man says, "be silent and let me explain the rules. Breaking the rules will result in immediate arrest and being court-martialed for any member of the military present. For civilians, it will be up to the Watch.
"The rules are the following: one, you cannot use magic in any shape or form outside basic Enchantments. No external material projections of any element are allowed. Anything that increases the size of your weapon is not allowed. Increasing the weight is allowed. Two, the duel ends when one of the contestants either gives up or dies. Three, no interruption or interference is allowed. If any member of the audience is to disturb the duel, they will be punished severely. If any member of the military is to interfere during or after the duel, they will be executed on the spot. The sanctity of Military Duels shall not be violated.
"Contestants, if you have understood the rule, say 'aye.'"
"Aye," I say with a sigh.
"Aye," Appius savors the words as he slowly unsheathes his weapon and looks at me like a wolf at his prey.
"Little worm, are you ready to play?"
Oh, wait.
A sudden thought hits me.
It's true that he's sworn not to interfere with me anymore, but it's also true that my position would be very precarious if I didn't remove the malicious agents that want to fuck up my life. My mother is right, dammit. Now I understand the ritual Magister Mulligan administered. Can't grow and become an adult if there's still so much shit in your life. Appius, in this case, is the pile of shit that's blocking the door.
"I'm more than ready. It's time for a cleanup," I smile slowly, bending forward and releasing the sword from its harness.
I balance it on one shoulder as Appius fastens the big shield to his arm and looks at me with savagery.
"You'll regret ever stepping into Amorium, worm," Appius roars.
"You'll regret ever mentioning my mother's name, bitch," I reply, finally letting the anger set into my body, empowering my muscles, and revitalizing my bones.
"Let the duel begin!" The robed man shouts and steps backward, still keeping an eye on us, as he’s probably in charge of refereeing.
Appius charges at me with incredible speed, probably the result of a skill. However, it's only incredible speed to the audience—to me, he's a snail.
"A bitch's a bitch," I say, widening my stance and taking a deep breath.
I put both hands on the handle, and as soon as he enters my range, I twist with all my strength, spinning quickly before letting the sword slash horizontally.
Appius is caught by surprise by my swing mid-step, too unbalanced to dodge. He can only raise his big shield and shout a skill.
"[Reinforced Defense]!"
You wish.
My sword strikes the shield head-on and, with its effective weight tripled by the Enchantment and my passive skills, it's like being hit by a truck.
There is a nasty shriek of metal as Appius's feet leave the ground, and the momentum he had accumulated thoroughly vanishes as he flies back for an entire eight yards before tumbling to the ground. The shield is badly bent, and his skill has been shattered as if it were a shrimp chip. The crowd’s thundering cheering stops. They gasp themselves silent.
Appius raises from the ground with a stunned expression, but anger clearly triumphs over reason as he charges again at me.
I stand my ground, finally ready to be the executioner and use my real skills. But I want the sheep to come to the slaughterhouse by himself.
Reacting swiftly, I plant my sword firmly in the ground, using its hilt to deliver a forceful kick to his shield. The impact causes the [Soldier] to stagger and lose his footing.
I don't need no skills. Hell, I don't even need my sword for this.
I leave the sword planted in the ground, as Appius raises his shield to bash me with it as I walk toward him.
A few cheers emanate from the bleachers, eager diehards amongst the crowd hoping for Appius to quickly turn the situation around against the human. To their eyes, I've transformed into the embodiment of evil.
"Oh yeah?" I mutter, as Appius misses the attack with his shield as I side-step him.
He unleashes a swing with the sword but I simply lean back. I sense that the man is about to unleash a skill and immediately jab at his face before he can raise the badly bent shield again.
I feel his nose cracking under my fist and then go for a leg sweep. This time, he manages to do something.
"[Quick Dodge]!" He shouts, flying back at unnatural speed.
I keep getting closer, relentless. He shouts some more skills, but I just dodge, weaving and evading gracefully—I want him humiliated.
Who's the Worm now?
I feel an unfamiliar anger slowly rising in my gut as I play with him—but as soon as the thought comes, it's like a cold shower.
I can't play with him like this.
That's when I notice the man is getting slower, stumbling almost.
What the—is he gassed already? Really?
I walk back toward my sword, heaving it onto my shoulders, and waiting for the man to come to his death.
I'm sure his pride and idiocy will bring him right back.
And he does. Well, he stumbles a lot, but he does.
Stop getting distracted, I tell myself.
[Deep Focus]
As soon as Appius is in range, I spin in place and deliver another devastating slash of my sword. This time, the shield folds completely, saving Appius's life for one last time as the man leaves the ground like an arrow from a bow. He hits the wall of the arena and then falls forward.
"Get up, Worm!" I shout.
I wait, ready to fulfill my destiny as laid down by Magister Mulligan, but...
My heart races as I watch an odd scene unfold before me.
Ten seconds pass.
Then thirty.
Then an entire minute.
The stadium, once filled with the raucous energy of the crowd, slowly falls into a sudden, eerie silence. The spectators' cheers and jeers are replaced by stunned gasps and hushed whispers. Everyone stunned and speechless.
Why is he not moving?
I wait as the arena erupts into murmurs, but nothing happens.
Appius is lying on the ground, unmoving.
"Woooo!"
The entire arena turns toward a skinny blond on the bleachers, the only one cheering for me. Well, the only person cheering at all.
Unsurprisingly, it's Truffles.
Comments
T'Ericka
🤣🤣🤣
khil01
Truffles definitely didn't drug him, that's for sure, no way he would do that
David Zimmerle
Good ol’ truffles.
