"That should do it," the mercenary said as he tied off the bandage around the guard's head. Although he hadn't anywhere near the expertise of an apothecary or doctor, he'd become adequate at tending simple wounds throughout his years as a soldier.
"Thanks," the guard said gratefully as he rubbed his aching head. "It's a good thing you arrived when you did. Honestly, I'm not sure we would've made it without your help."
There were a few other people around the site, most appeared to be equipped for combat, but others seemed more civilian in their appearance. Thankfully, they'd all survived, even if some were unconscious.
"So, mind telling how you lot ended up like this?" Kruber asked, noticing the tag hanging around the guard's neck, a sign that he was a member of the 'Adventurer's Guild'.
"Not much to say, really. We're on a merchant escort quest," the guard began. "A while ago, we fought off a couple of bandits. It didn't go all that well. Even though we beat them, they did a number on us. They managed to down our spellcaster and ranger too."
The guard glanced over at his companions, among them was a robed girl tending to another of his companions' wounds.
"Don't think they would've made it without our cleric, she healed them, but they were still out cold, and those were her last miracles," the guard continued. "Without our ranger, we couldn't see the bastards coming, so they ambushed us. They might be weak, but they're good when it comes to that."
"Yeah, that sounds typical for them, the sneaky little buggers," the former sergeant remarked before turning to look at his own companions.
Bardin had occupied himself with stacking up the greenskins' corpses, muttering and rambling as he doused them with oil. Meanwhile, Kerillian stood vigilantly, silently watching for any potential threats that lurked in the dark.
"So, I'm guessing you'll want some compensation for all this," the guard said practically. "This escort quest pays decently, we can tell the guild to leave you guys a share when we get back."
"That does sound nice," Kruber remarked. "You mentioned the guild, is this cart headed to Frontier Town?"
"Sure is," the guard confirmed.
"Well, tell you what," the mercenary began. "If you give us a ride back to town and buy us a round of drinks, we'll call things even."
The guard stared at the former sergeant confusedly before his mouth broke out into a grin.
"Sounds like a deal. I'll have to ask the merchant in charge, but I doubt he'll say no to having more good hands on board," the guard responded, offering his hand to shake. "I got a feeling we'll get along well, Hat Man."
"You know, you're not the first bloke to call me that, not that I mind," Kruber remarked as he accepted the guard's hand and shook firmly.
As the guard stood and made his way over to speak to the cart's driver, the mercenary approached his companions.
"Guess who just saved us a walk back to town and some ale money," the former sergeant announced.
"I already heard everything, Kruber, you don't have to tell it to me again," Kerillian responded dismissively.
"That's all fine and good Azumgi, but we have a pressing matter here!" Bardin said urgently. "I've run out of matches and the grobi haven't been burnt yet!"
"Calm down, Bardin, you can borrow mine," Kruber replied, offering his tinderbox to the dwarf. "Just make sure you don't accidentally burn off your beard, it smells like you got a bit of oil on it."
"Ah, it's times like these that prove you're a true dwarf friend, Kruber," the ranger replied as he took the mercenary's tinderbox and returned to the pile of greenskin corpses, though not before wiping his beard down with a cloth to prevent any unfortunate accidents, leaving the waystalker and the mercenary alone.
"I don't get why you turned down that lumberfoot's first offer," the elf remarked. "A ride on a crudely constructed mayfly cart and some cheap backwater swill seems rather lacking."
"Well, think about it like this, good reputation might be worth more than coin," Kruber explained. "Nobody here knows us at the moment, and that means nobody's going to help us much. But now, this bloke and his mates feel like they owe us a favor or two. They put in a good word for us here and there, we get more work and more contacts. Which means more money in the long run and a better chance we can find some way home."
"Home..." Kerillian repeated solemnly, looking up at the two moons in the night sky. "Do you really think we'll return there?"
"Of course, we have to," the former sergeant replied without hesitation. "Lohner and Olesya are counting on us, not to mention Hedda, Catrinne, and everyone else. Sure, this place is nice, but we can't stay here."
"That's not what I meant," the elf responded, turning to face her companion. "Something about this place is strange. Everything is too familiar but also too different."
"Is this another riddle?" the mercenary asked. "You know I'm not too good with those, especially yours."
"I'm being serious," Kerillian answered. "There's something off here, but I can't figure out what it all means."
As the elf finished speaking, a large fire suddenly came alight a short distance away from the pair. The sound of mirthful laughter boomed over the crackling of the flames as Bardin returned.
"Hah, the grobi are burning brightly now, all is well in the world," the dwarf announced as he handed Kruber his tinderbox back. "Thanks again for the matches, Azumgi. Now let's get back to town, my throat's gotten rather dry from today's work."
As the ranger made his way to the merchant's cart, the former sergeant turned back to the waystalker.
"Look, I'm not sure what any of it means, but it's been a long day," Kruber began. "Let's go back to town, get something to eat, and rest up. Whatever you're trying to figure out, it'll be hard if you're hungry and tired, yeah?"
"I suppose you're right, Kruber," Kerillian relented as she and the mercenary followed their dwarf companion to the cart to begin their journey back to town.
"We gotta drop off our wounded to the temple to rest, but we'll come by and get you a round of drinks right after," the guard said as he and his companions helped carry their unconscious members to the temple.
"Sounds good, get a good rest, you lot," the mercenary said before he and his companions made their way to the entrance of the Adventurer's Guild. "Ready for our first payday here?"
"That's a silly question, who wouldn't be ready to get more coin in their pouches?" Bardin remarked. "We'll be splitting the earnings evenly, right Azumgi?"
"Of course, but I'll be taking last week's food costs from you two's shares," Kruber answered.
"Fair enough, no true dawi leaves a debt unpaid," the ranger responded.
"Let's just get this over with already," Kerillian said disinterestedly as the three entered the building.
By now it was the later hours of the night; most of the guild's usual patrons had retired for the night, but a decent number still remained at the tables to eat, drink, and converse with each other. Upon hearing the door open, the receptionist looked up from the documents on her desk and toward the entering group.
"I see you're all back safely," Guild Girl greeted. "Did everything go well?"
"As well as it could, we managed to clear out those greenskins," Kruber responded as he began recounting the events of their day's work.
By the time the mercenary finished his account of events, Guild Girl had written down multiple pages worth of documentation for him and his companions.
"Wow, by the rate you're going, you'll probably qualify for promotion in about a month or so," the receptionist remarked, impressed by the new group's work.
"Is that fast? How long does that usually take?" Kruber asked curiously.
"Well, it depends on the circumstances, but for a party of porcelain rankers, it'd take at least a season's worth of work," Guild Girl answered.
"You hear that, mates? Seems we're rather efficient," the mercenary remarked to his companions.
"Aye, but enough of this prattling, what about our payment?" Bardin asked.
"Of course, I'll get that ready for you," the receptionist answered. "In the meantime, feel free to take a seat and order something."
"We kind of need that payment to do that," Kruber said, tapping his near-empty coin pouch. "Don't really have much funds at hand anymore."
"No need to worry, situations like that are pretty common with adventurers," Guild Girl reassured. "We can just directly deduct the costs of your orders from your payment."
"Huh, well, that's rather convenient," the mercenary remarked as he and his companions took a table and soon began their respite.
It wasn't long before the guard and the non-injured members of his party came by. After giving their quest report to Guild Girl, with some good word thrown in for their new friends' assistance on the matter, they fulfilled their end of the bargain, buying a round of drinks for the three as they all conversed amongst themselves, some more enthusiastically than others. By the end of the night, the two groups parted ways pleasantly.
With their meals finished and payment received, the three finally retired for the night, readying themselves for the next day's endeavors.
"Spick and span once again," the former sergeant remarked as he exited the blacksmith's shop, his armor now repaired and his hat once again adorned with its pin and plumes.
It had been a while since the mercenary had the luxury of time and access to simple amenities, and he would not let the opportunity pass by. Earlier in the morning, he had taken the time to bathe and touch up his equipment, cleaning off weeks' worth of grime and other filth that had accumulated on his body and apparel from his journey through the Chaos Wastes and his time traversing the 'Western Frontier'. Still, there was only so much he could do on his own; without the right facilities, repairing his armor would be a futile endeavor. Usually, he would have his companions' assistance on the matter; Sienna's fire magic could provide a capable improvised forge, while Bardin and Saltzpyre's expertise in maintenance made even some of the more significant damages a non-issue to fix. But with the wizard and witch hunter away on their own venture, and the dwarf still resting, the former sergeant had decided to visit a nearby blacksmith, who had done a well enough job for the cost of his services.
'Better check up on those two, can't let them rest the day away,' Kruber thought as he began his walk back to the Adventurer's Guild. But on his way, the former sergeant caught sight of something that piqued his interest.
"Ah!" a dark-haired adolescent boy yelped as he fell onto the dirt of the training grounds.
"Come on! You won't be able to even kill a goblin moving like that!" a tall, heavily armored man wielding a large sword shouted before pushing away another boy who had attempted to charge him.
The mercenary moved closer to the training grounds to get a better view of the scene before him. Looking around, he noticed that he wasn't the only spectator, a woman in plate armor and two girls were watching the training session as well, though they seemed to be doing so more for entertainment than observation.
The former sergeant refocused his attention on the figures involved in the training session and began analyzing them.
Looking at the way the two boys moved made it clear that, though both were obviously inexperienced, there was a notable gap in their skill. The dark-haired boy's maneuvers showed a level of skill and control, demonstrating that he knew some of the fundamentals of close combat even if he didn't fully grasp them yet. Meanwhile, the other boy, one with light hair, moved in a wild and clumsy manner, a sign that he, while of good spirit, had little idea or understanding of the basics.
But the ineptitude of his opponents did not in any way detract from the skill the large man was showing in how he handled them. With every attempt the boys made to strike him, the man quickly and easily countered their attacks before swiftly taking them down. The fact that he was able to neutralize them so easily without accidentally harming them was a sign of proficiency in itself.
Still, regardless of how skilled he was, it didn't seem that the large man was particularly proficient when it came to teaching others. The way he moved, though effective, seemed to be highly personalized, and while those methods worked well for him, they didn't seem too applicable to the subjects of his training.
The scene overall was somewhat nostalgic for the former sergeant, he had spent a long time in similar training grounds throughout the course of his career, both as a student in his youth and as a teacher in his veteran years. Those really were the good days, the days before that ill-fated battle.
As the mercenary reminisced of days past, the light-haired boy made yet another poorly-executed charge at the heavily armored man, who easily avoided the attack and pushed the boy along, using his momentum against him. But the boy had been much more forceful this time, and he had failed to take note of his surroundings.
"Oh crap!" the light-haired boy yelled out as he was about to barrel face-first into a fence post, unable to stop himself.
Snapping out of his thoughts, the former sergeant acted quickly, maneuvering to catch the boy before helping him regain his balance.
"Bugger, that was a close one," Kruber remarked before pointing a thumb at the fence post. "Seen my fair share of recruits trip and fall as you did just now, crashing into that would've lost you a tooth or two, I'll tell you that much."
"Oh, uh, thanks," the boy said awkwardly as he dusted himself off.
"I've been watching you lot spar for a bit," the former sergeant continued, "You're pretty new to this, aren't you?"
"Is it really that obvious?" the boy questioned somewhat embarrassedly. "I mean, I learned a few things back at my village's militia."
"Oh, don't worry too much about it, we all start from somewhere. You made a few blunders, but nothing that can't be corrected," the former sergeant reassured. "Alright first up, proper footwork, you have to be able to control how you move; make sure to always keep a foot on the ground, no more of that lunging business."
"Okay," the boy responded, following along.
"Alright, second's stance," the mercenary continued. "Show me how you'd stand in a fistfight."
"Huh? But I'm not a monk," the boy said confusedly.
"Neither am I, don't see how that matters," the former sergeant stated. "Just do it."
"Okay," the boy responded as he adopted a crude pugilist's stance.
The mercenary took a quick glance at the boy's posture before continuing.
"Follow my lead," Kruber said, adopting his own stance, one that had been refined in combat, both in the fields of battle and the bars of unruly taverns. "Widen your stance, your feet should line up to about where your shoulders are, bend your knees a bit, and face your side. Your front hand should hold your shield, the back one's for your weapon."
"Um, alright," the boy said as he matched the former sergeant's stance, holding his sword and shield in the appropriate hands. "I think I get it."
"Alright, third, think about where you want to strike," the mercenary advised. "Don't just swing all wild-"
"Hey!" the heavily armored man called out as he approached the pair. "What're you doing?"
"Just giving the lad a few pointers," Kruber answered as he faced the man. Compared to the mercenary, the man stood at about half a head taller. To most, he'd be an imposing figure, but one's idea of 'imposing' tended to change when having to face hulking monstrosities on a regular basis. "Seemed like he needed a bit of help."
"Yeah, that's why I'm training him," the heavily armored man stated.
The light-haired boy began to back away from the pair. He didn't know how the two's interaction would end, but he knew that he didn't want to be in the middle of it in case it went sour.
"Look, mate, I can tell you know how to fight," the mercenary said. "But I'm guessing you're mostly self-taught, right?"
The man's expression became puzzled, "How'd you know?"
"It's just the way you move," Kruber answered. "You fight in a way that fits you well, but it's a kind of style that doesn't really work for a lot of others. Bit hard to teach when you have that going, if you catch my meaning."
"So, what, are you saying you can do better?" the man questioned.
"Well, it's not like it's a competition," the former sergeant replied diplomatically.
"Okay, I've heard enough," a new voice interjected. Turning to its direction revealed its source to be one of the spectators of the training session, the plate-armored woman. "The way I see it, there's only one way to settle this, a good old-fashioned duel."
"You're just saying that because you're bored," the man accused flatly.
"You didn't say I was wrong," the woman retorted smugly. "A straight fight is the best way to prove if Hat Man here actually knows what he's talking about, or if he's full of it. We can even add a wager, how about: 'loser pays for the winner's drink'?"
The heavily armored man gave a shrug before turning back to the mercenary. "You up for it?"
"Sure, why not, I've got the time," Kruber responded, accepting the challenge, though his mind was occupied with a different matter.
'That's the third time someone's called me that, it's not going to become a thing, is it?' the mercenary asked himself.
Kerillian sat silently in her room, deep in meditation. She tried making sense of all the things that had her bothered. The two moons, which had used to be in eternal turmoil with one another, were now seemingly at peace. Every nature spirit she encountered spoke differently, and they seemed more cooperative than any of them should reasonably be. Even the Weave itself, with its unmistakable presence, felt off.
There was also the matter of the odd greenskins, but, with how much Goreksson had already rambled about them and their... sensitive regions, she had no desire to ponder over them.
A sudden series of loud knocks on her door brought the elf out of her thoughts.
"Wutelgi! Open up!" A familiar, annoying, dwarfish voice called out from behind the door.
"Figures," Kerillian muttered as she turned to face the door, not opening it yet in case the reason for her companion's being there was something stupid. "What is it, Goreksson?"
"It's Kruber! He's gotten into a fight!" Bardin answered frantically.
"I'm sure he can handle it," the elf responded dismissively, half out of disinterest and half out of faith in the mercenary's capabilities.
"You don't understand! Just come outside and look for yourself!" the ranger persisted. "We have to before it's too late!"
Letting out a sigh, the elf gathered her belongings and opened the door.
"This better not be a waste of my time," Kerillian said flatly as she followed the dwarf outside. As she exited the building, she immediately noticed a moderately sized crowd had gathered up near the training area.
With the elf weaving her way through the crowd, and the dwarf shoving his way forward, they were able to get a good look at the scene before them.
Two figures stood at the center of the training grounds. One was a familiar face, though his hat gave away his identity faster than his visage, while the other was a slightly taller human male outfitted in dark, heavy armor and wielding a large sword. From the look of things, it seemed to just be an ordinary duel, one that hadn't even started yet.
"This is what's gotten you so panicked?" Kerillian asked incredulously, looking down at her dwarf companion. "This is nothing. That lumberfoot isn't even as big as a Chaos Warrior."
"Hm?" the dwarf hummed confusedly as he held his coin pouch before realizing he'd been misunderstood, letting out a small chuckle. "Oh, no, I'm not worried about him, Wutelgi, I was talking about the betting."
"Bets! Place your bets here!" A light-haired Elf shouted from atop a crate. A dark-haired boy and a light-haired girl stood nearby, seemingly helping with the process.
"Oh, hey, you guys are here too," a familiar voice said as the caravan guard from the night before approached the pair. "I feel sorry for the Hat Man, this is gonna be a rough loss for him."
"You don't think he'll win?" Kerillian questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean, don't me wrong, I like the guy and all, but he's got no chance against Heavy Warrior, silver rankers are on a whole other level," the guard argued. "I'll make sure to buy him a drink when this is over though, he'll need it and with how big a payday this is gonna be, I'll have lots of coin to spare."
The waystalker stared at the oblivious mayfly amusedly before looking at her dwarf companion. "Are you betting all your coin on this?"
"No point in doing it halfway," Bardin responded as he made his way to the betting organizers. "Besides, we already know who'll win."
"My thoughts exactly," Kerillian said as she followed the dwarf, her coin pouch in hand.
"Blimey, quite the crowd here, is it usually like this?" Kruber asked as he looked around. In the few minutes he'd taken to check over his equipment, several spectators had gathered around the training grounds, seemingly out of nowhere.
"She always likes to make a show out of these things," Heavy Warrior replied, pointing a thumb at Female Knight, who was currently busy hyping up the crowd. "It's a miracle it hasn't backfired on her yet."
"Oh, I get that feeling," the mercenary replied. "Used to have a friend like that back in the army, had to bail him out of a debtor's jail once or twice; had too many bad hands in cards. Good times back then."
Heavy Warrior let out a sigh as he heard the other man reminisce.
"Look, you seem like a decent guy, but I'm telling you now, you're in over your head. Being a soldier doesn't prepare you for adventuring as much as you'd think," the warrior said, having seen the way the soldiers of The Kingdom's army fought throughout his years as an adventurer and his short-lived time as a mercenary with his childhood friend. "And I saw your tag, you only just started right?"
"Yep, signed up yesterday," Kruber responded without hesitation.
"There's no shame in backing out, you know," Heavy Warrior offered. "Healing isn't cheap."
"Oh, don't worry about my sake," the mercenary responded as he prepared his stance with his sword and shield ready. "Show me what you can do."
"I'll try to end this fast," the veteran said, assuming his own stance with his gigantic sword.
"Bets are all set!" a voice from beyond the crowd shouted out, causing Female Knight to nod in acknowledgement before she turned to the pair.
"Alright! The only rule of this duel is that it ends when one of you surrenders or can no longer fight!" the knight announced, making it clear for both the contenders and the crowd to hear. "You can start... now!"
As soon as Female Knight gave the signal to start, the two combatants advanced upon one another.
The mercenary made the first strike, he kept his guard up while performing a series of controlled probing stabs and slashes, all of which were easily parried by his opponent. Despite the warrior's bulky appearance, he was actually quite fast. But even so, with such a hefty weapon, there were bound to be openings.
Heavy Warrior responded with a swift counterattack, shoving away the former sergeant before performing a vertical slash aimed at his shoulder. With a step to the side, the mercenary dodged, leaving the large blade to only glance off the surface of his shield.
The warrior followed up with a barrage of powerful wide slashes, which the former sergeant skillfully parried. But with each successful defence, the mercenary's guard grew more tired.
Seeing an opportunity to break his opponent's defence, the warrior prepared a powerful, diagonal slash aimed at the mercenary's shield, intending to end the fight then and there.
But to the warrior's surprise, the former sergeant had dodged the wide blow, and with another quick step, he was now at his flank.
With the edge of his shield, the mercenary struck hard at the warrior's leg, causing the heavily armored man to fall to a knee, before following up with a swing of his sword.
In a snap reaction, the warrior released one of his hands from his weapon, bringing up his arm to guard against the attack, causing the flat of the former sergeant's blade to gently tap on the warrior's gauntlet instead of his neck.
The mercenary backed away from his opponent, allowing him to stand and get his bearings.
"You're a lot faster than you look," Heavy Warrior remarked, realizing there was more to the newcomer than he first thought.
"I'd say the same for you, ain't easy handling a weapon that big," Kruber replied. "But keep your guard up, you're a bit exposed here and there."
"Guess I don't need to hold back, after all," Heavy Warrior said with a grin as he rushed at the mercenary, once again closing the distance.
"Wait, he might actually have a chance of winning this!" the caravan guard shouted excitedly, before remembering his bet. "Oh no! He might have a chance of winning this!"
"There is no chance," Kerillian deadpanned as she observed the fight, analyzing the former sergeant's movements. "He's blatantly holding back."
"Oh, yeah, if Heavy Warrior gives it his all, it's over," the guard agreed obliviously, trying to reassure himself.
"Get him good, Azumgi!" Bardin shouted, an ale now in his hand. "Hit the wazzock with a Barak Varr handshake!"
The fight continued on, seemingly falling into a rhythm as the two combatants continued to trade blows.
The mercenary performed a series of strikes targeting various areas on the warrior's body, but each time the warrior would repel the attacks with his blade before attempting a powerful counterattack, which was either dodged or parried by his opponent.
With both gradually wearing each other out, they knew that their duel would end soon.
Heavy Warrior once again prepared another wide slash, causing the mercenary to dodge to back, but this was what the warrior had wanted. In an instant, the warrior charged and switched his feint into a powerful overhead strike.
In a snap reflex, the mercenary raised his shield to block the attack, taking its impact head-on. But the blow was too much for his guard to handle, breaking his defences and stunning him.
Seeing the opening, Heavy Warrior followed up on his attack, performing a finishing diagonal strike.
But at the last moment, as if given a second wind, the mercenary had dodged the attack once again before advancing to his opponent's flank.
'Shit,' Heavy Warrior thought, as he quickly turned and adjusted his guard, anticipating a strike to his leg.
But unbeknownst to him, the mercenary had not aimed for the warrior's leg this time. Instead, in a similar maneuver to a pugilist's hook, the mercenary drove his shield hard into the warrior's forearms, knocking them out of position and breaking his opponent's defence.
The warrior's grip was unbroken by the impact of the forceful strike, but it didn't matter. The former sergeant kept the shield pushed firmly in place, preventing the warrior from swinging his weapon, as he brought his sword to the warrior's throat, the flat of the blade resting gently on his skin.
"I yield," Heavy Warrior said, admitting defeat.
"What!? The Hat Man won!?" Female Knight announced surprisedly.
"AHH! That was a week's worth of pay!" the caravan guard yelled as he realized his lost bet.
"Yeah, you showed them, sergeant!" Bardin shouted victoriously.
"Hey Goreksson, hand me one of those ales," Kerillian said, watching the scene play out. Most of the crowd was cheering, but what captured the elf's amusement were the spectators who were upset at the outcome, likely due to lost bets. Frustrated, petty mayflies were always a delight to witness, and with One-Eye gone for the moment, this was the best she'd get for now.
"Feeling thirsty, Wutelgi?" the dwarf asked as he reached into his sack and handed the elf a bottle.
"Feeling celebratory," Kerillian replied as she used her dagger to pop the bottle's cork off. "Cheers."
As the mercenary put away his sword and shield, he turned to address his former opponent.
"You put up a good fight, mate," Kruber said as he offered his hand to shake. "You really had me on the ropes a few times. If you swung a bit faster, I would've lost for sure."
"You're not too bad of a fighter yourself, Hat Man," Heavy Warrior responded, shaking the former sergeant's hand. "You beat me fair, looks like I need to work on my defence more."
"Oh yeah, about that," the mercenary began as he gestured his arms in a swinging motion. "You see, your problem is that you're extending your elbows too much. It gives your strikes more reach and power, but it throws your balance off, especially with that big sword of yours."
"Really? I don't think I've ever noticed that," Heavy Warrior said thoughtfully. "I don't think my partner has either."
"Yeah, it's one of those things where you don't realize it's a problem because it feels normal and you're doing well enough overall," the former sergeant explained. "One of my mates has a similar issue, he always holds his arm just a bit too low, but he feels he gets by alright so he doesn't correct it."
"Huh, I never thought of it like that," the warrior responded appreciatively. "Thanks for the pointer, seems I owe you a favor. Well, and a drink."
"If that's the case, mind if I use that favor now?" the mercenary asked.
"Hm?" Heavy Warrior hummed confusedly as the former sergeant turned to the crowd.
"Oi, you lot! Come around the guild hall for a free round of drinks on me and my mate here!" the mercenary announced. "It'll be one of the cheaper ones though, I'm low on coin!"
With his announcement of free beverages, the crowd went wild with cheers of praise for the 'Hat Man' and Heavy Warrior.
"Split the bill with me on this, and we'll call it even," the former sergeant stated.
"You really are something, Hat Man," the warrior replied as his confused expression turned to a grin.
As Heavy Warrior began to make his way to the guild, his companion, Female Knight, came to his side.
"I bet half a month's worth of earnings on you," the knight said to her partner, still in shock.
"Well, who's fault is that? You were the one who made this duel happen in the first place," the warrior responded. "At least you're not bored anymore, right?"
"Yeah, it was a pretty cool match, I guess," Female Knight admitted, still sulking.
Even as the crowd dispersed, the former sergeant's mind remained occupied on a particular matter.
'Welp, guess the 'Hat Man' is who I am now. Suppose it's not the worst title, all considered, at least it's one that people will remember,' the mercenary thought. 'Wonder how Saltzpyre and Sienna are doing.'