(A/N): I made a currency. 1 gold coin is equals to 1000z and 1 silver coin is equals to 100z.

A man carrying a thousand zennies would just seem ridiculous ain't it? He would have a large bag containing a thousand coins hanging round his waist. A man w/ a gold coin would be much better.

Disclaimer: I don't own Ragnarok Online. I am only a humble fan writing his fictional side tale in Midgard.

REIGN OF THE DUALS!

Act I: Market Fight

"STEP BACK, GIVE DEM' ROOM!"

Valcan, a raggedy old man, shouted.

Deep in the market slums, south west of Prontera City, a fight is brewing. People gathered around the street; primarily composed of merchants, thieves and various squatters.

'But as usual!'

Valcan thought.

'Prontera is in shambles. Not like da' old days'

Valcan quickly snapped out from his chain of thoughts and got back to the matter at hand. He was the self-appointed bet-collector. He had been living in the market slums for so longthat he had gained the respect of the people not to intervene with himwhen he collects the bet. He was a small ragged old man that barely took a bath. His short, fuzzy, white, curly hair is always covered with his pinkish hat. He always smiles and takessheer joyon little things, showing his yellow and black decayed teeth (well what's left of it) isn't a pretty sight though.

In the middle of the street were two fighters, staying motionless, staring each other cold in the eye. They were about thirty feet apart. Both of them were about the same height. One was wearing a cape and the other one was wearing a manteau. The caped one was a tall, white man around 6 feet with a straight, horizontal-lined scar on his forehead. He had a short, fuzzy, brown hair that would seem like he never uses a comb. The other one however had a long, straight, black hair tied with a thin, black thread. This fighter was darker than the other one. He had a tanned, brown skin that would signify him living in the desert. He looked like he was still in his early twenties. With that factor, the crowd favored his much older looking opponent.

"All bets aboard?" "All bets in place?"

The raggedy man exclaimed, hoping for more money to be placed. But to no avail.

"Fine den'! Da' worth is 5 to 1!"

"A sum of 1500 zennies for da' caped one an' only 300 zennies for da' other one".

"Wait!" a greasy but well rounded voice came from the back of the crowd.

Valcan stretched his little legs and neck trying to find the voice. A man was slowly making his way through the crowd. He was wearing a sakkat and a ragged dark brown manteau.

"Make that 1 to 1" .

Much to his surprise, the man gave him an amount 1200 zennies to even the bet! Valcan gladly took it for it means more share for him. But still, Valcan couldn't help but wonder why a rich, mysterious man was wandering around the market slums. It would surely make him a marked target for thieves.

"Okay now! Da' bet is even! Da' worth is 1 to 1!"

Valcan announced with glee.

The crowd roared with delight as majority of them voted for the caped man and the new odds would definitely raise their winnings.

"Okay now! Are both fighters ready?"

The two fighters nodded without taking their eyes off each other.

"Den FIGHT!"

Quickly, the long haired fighter took out his katar which was hiding inside his manteau and dove off toward his opponent with lightning fast speed.

"HE'S AN ASSASSIN!" the crowd exclaimed.

But it was a bit strange though, for the other fighter was still maintaining a calm face; even when his opponent was charging like hell about to slice up his throat.

The crowd was a bit annoyed.

"What the hell's he doin'!"

But then the calm fighter slowly took his rod hiding inside his cape and shouted…

"FIRE WALL!"

There were "oohs" and "aahs" beyond the amazed crowd. A wall of fire suddenly rose within ten feet from the mage. The fire was immense! It seemed to cover the whole street; which left the assassin no room to pass through. The assassin gave a quick stop not wanting to be burned. He realized that his opponent was comfortably safe behind the fire wall; he had to make a move fast, for he doesn't want to give the mage anymore time to cast another spell. He knows that the next spell would be a direct attack on him.

The mage was murmuring something; his hands were engulfed with fire. Everybody knew exactly… he was about to cast "fire bolt" on the assassin. Much to the crowd's surprise, the assassin suddenly made a vertical leap; a leap that seemed to be higher than the wall itself.

'Hmm… Dat' wall is about twenty feet tall. Dat' sin's very well trained!..'

Valcan thought as he was closely watching the battle.

While the assassin was at the peak of his jump, a little higher than the wall, he sheathed his left hand katar and quickly took out a dagger. The mage's eyes widened as he saw his opponent throwing a dagger at him while he was still casting. The mage tried to dodge it but it was too late, the dagger sank deeply on his left shoulder. With his concentration diminished, due to pain; the great wall of fire disappeared. This was the chance for the assassin, for assassins attack very efficiently when their victims are injured, unaware or distracted. The assassin dove again with lightning fast speed toward his opponent, but he was surprised when the mage was still able to summon another fire wall despite the wound. But alas, the mage was not as powerful as before, for the wound really affected his concentration. This time the fire wall was only about half as big as before. The assassin leaped above it with ease aiming his katar directly at his opponent's throat. The mage desperately tried to block the katar with his rod. But a rod against a katar? The rod was quickly sliced in two as the assassin landed beside him, giving another quick slice at his throat and the mage fell… dead.

There was an eerie silence in the crowd for majority of their bets were on the mage. Curses were heard as the disappointed crowd slowly left the scene.

Valcan couldn't help but think again…

'Hmm… Dat' sin's really well trained!'