Through Eddie's halting narration, the four adventurers roughly understood that Tony Ulea had entrusted Eddie to pass on a message, hoping EeDechi could join the Warrior Captain martial tournament.
"I don't get it," EeDechi scratched her head, "This must be Old Tony's... last words. He didn't say who the killer was, so why does he want me to enter the selection contest for the Warrior Captain?"
Barrett stroked the stubborn stubble on his chin, pondered for a moment, and said, "Old Tony was always a cautious and sharp guy. He must have had his reasons for this. The killer could be someone he couldn't handle, and it might threaten Eddie's safety too."
"According to the sheriff's report, there were three charred bodies at the scene," Sean chimed in. "From the leftover clothes, it looks like three mages got killed in a showdown with Old Tony."
"Someone who can rally three mages to attack Tony Ulea—could it be some mage guild in the Re-Estize?"
"No, the attackers are probably nobles from the second prince's side," Stella guessed. "I know how nobles operate. For power and control, they'll pull every dirty trick in the book, including assassination, cooking up false charges, framing the innocent..."
The other three discussed it for a bit and ended up agreeing with Stella's theory. Tony Ulea had always been a laid-back optimist, and in his adventuring days, he rarely lost his temper or picked fights with anyone.
Lately, in the Warrior Captain selection contest, he'd been putting in a lot of effort for Princess Renner, which naturally got in the way of the rival noble faction.
"How about I head to the palace, drag that punk Second Prince Zanac out, and grill him for answers?" EeDechi suggested what she figured was a straightforward and effective plan.
"No, not yet—we don't have solid evidence right now." Barrett quickly talked his reckless captain down, "First, think about why Old Tony wanted you to join the Warrior Captain tournament. What's the real intention behind this move?"
"How far along is the Warrior Captain selection contest?" EeDechi asked. These days they'd been hunkered down at home, not paying much attention to the shifting tides outside.
"Four days ago, I saw on the arena's bulletin board that there were still 16 candidates left. Going by the every-other-day fight rules..." Sean said, "Tomorrow's the semifinals!"
"Semifinals, then finals..." Barrett grabbed EeDechi's hand and yanked her toward the door, "Come on, we don't have much time!"
...
The rain had passed, but the clouds hung gray and heavy, blocking out the sun.
The winter night's downpour had just washed the earth clean, leaving the air damp and chilly. Puddles were skimmed with thin ice—one step, and shards crunched up with the murky water.
In a manor, a burly man with a bare torso swung a nearly two-meter-long greatsword.
His muscles rippled like knotted ropes, his iron-forged arms heaving the blade down to shatter a half-meter granite boulder. Sparks and stone dust exploded outward. He yanked the sword free, planted his feet, leveled the greatsword, and thrust forward with a savage jab—the rough tip seeming to rip the air itself.
"Good, maintain that form." A tall, lean man in an embroidered padded jacket and a bearskin hat with earflaps stood off to the side, quill scratching notes on a scroll. "Believe in yourself. In tomorrow's duel, Schroeve will be your beaten opponent for sure."
"I'm plenty confident," the man said, plunging the greatsword into the soft mud at his feet. "Schroeve's just a Baharuth mongrel famous for offing newbies. Tomorrow, I'll hack his skull wide open with one swing!"
The tall lean man in the bearskin hat was about to reply when a flat female voice cut in, "Are you Duncan Dalton?"
The burly man turned around, facing a muscular guy whose height rivaled his own. He looked down and spotted a black-haired girl standing there, dressed in a loose black cotton robe, her face blank and emotionless.
"I'm Duncan Dalton. What's up, little nun?"
As the man answered, his eyes stayed glued to the burly guy behind the girl. From the silver metal badge on the guy's chest, he figured him for a mithril-level adventurer.
The black-haired girl handed over a sheet of parchment. "This is the challenge agreement. Please sign it."
Duncan snatched the parchment, gave it a quick scan—it was a legit official document. The gist was that, under the Warrior Captain tournament's challenge rules, EeDechi was challenging Duncan Dalton.
The Warrior Captain competition's challenge system was a special rule in the martial tournament: anyone could throw down a challenge to a contestant.
The contestant could say no, but if they accepted, after the duel, a win for the challenger meant taking all the contestant's rankings and points, stepping right into their spot in the tourney.
Barrett had checked the rankings and schedule, realizing the martial tournament that had the whole Re-Estize buzzing was wrapping up.
After dozens of gory one-on-one fights, only four contestants were left, with two matches still to go: Brain Unglaus versus Rhodes Rupert, and Schroeve Dahlsen versus Duncan Dalton.
No way could they slot EeDechi in to replace Brain, and they couldn't track down Schroeve. After sniffing around for info, they located Duncan—a third-ranked brute of an ex-mercenary who'd killed seven folks and crippled five in his duels.
"EeDechi?" Duncan eyed Barrett, crossing his arms. "That's a total chick name."
"Actually," the black-haired girl pointed at herself, "I'm EeDechi."
"Oh?"
Duncan glanced at the girl, then back at the challenge agreement in his hand. After making sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, he burst into wild laughter. "HAHAHA! Little nun, you're challenging me? Is the church preaching with their lives now? HAHAHAHA!"
The tall lean man in the fur hat walked over, giving them a cold glance. "Clear out, you nobodies. Don't mess with our prep for tomorrow's Warrior Captain semifinals."
Barrett stepped up beside EeDechi and said casually, "If you're chicken, you're chicken. Laughing louder won't hide it."
Duncan stopped laughing. He snatched the quill EeDechi offered and scribbled his name. "Fine, I accept the challenge."
"Duncan, Count Kura demands we go all out. Tomorrow's the crucial semifinals!" The tall lean man's tone was sharp.
"Old buddy, don't sweat it," Duncan shrugged. "Why not smack around a punching bag that shows up at your door? Call it practice."
The four left the manor, hailed a three-horse open carriage, turned down a few streets, and arrived at the notary office handling the Warrior Captain competition.
The notary officials heard their purpose, flipped the parchment agreement back and forth, confirmed no issues, then looked troubled. "The agreement's fine, it's just... no woman's ever entered the Warrior Captain competition. Sure, the rules don't specify gender, but tradition over the years..."
"Traditions are meant to be broken." EeDechi stepped forward, bold and proud.
Duncan slapped his thick, sturdy palms on the desk in front of the official, "Come on, help a guy out. I'll teach this little chick a lesson, won't kill her."
The notary officials hesitated a moment, then approved the challenge agreement. A fat official followed them out; he'd act as witness to EeDechi and Duncan's duel.
Out on the street, Duncan shot EeDechi a sideways glance. "Little nun, pick a spot. The abbey? But the gods won't save you."
"I'm an atheist." EeDechi's face showed some annoyance. "Let's fight right here."
The tall man in the fur hat said to Duncan, "Make it quick—we've got training to get back to."
"It'll be fast," Duncan said with a cold grin. "One punch deal, no time wasted."
He pulled steel knuckles from his spatial ring and slipped them onto his bony, veined hands. The spikes on the knuckles were like a beast's fangs. He clenched his fist tight, turning his hammer-like punch into something studded with nails.
EeDechi faced him squarely, dropping into a boxing stance.
"Here we go, little nun." Duncan took a deep breath, his thick arms bulging with explosive muscle. After a quick wind-up, he threw a fierce punch.
A dull THUD rang out! The brutal straight punch landed square on EeDechi's face!
Barrett jumped at the massive sound, but seeing EeDechi still standing tall, he let out a breath.
Duncan pulled back his fist, staring at it in shock. He couldn't believe it—how was the girl in front of him not even budging? Why wasn't she sprawled out unconscious? Why wasn't her cheekbone shattered and caved in?
The warrior's tough grit shoved aside the brief fear and confusion. Murderous rage boiled up in Duncan. He unleashed punches at ten times the speed—straight! Swing! Left hook! Flat hook! Uppercut! Jab... a full combo hammered into EeDechi's upper body like cannon fire, the force exploding outward, shredding the wooden buttons on her cotton robe to dust.
Duncan pulled back again, his eyes full of utter bewilderment.
The black-haired girl was still standing there, perfectly fine. If not for the real feel of impact when he struck, if not for the steel spikes on his knuckles now blunted flat! He'd almost think he'd been punching air, some empty illusion!
"My turn, then." EeDechi said, throwing a plain, no-frills punch.
Duncan spewed a mouthful of bright red blood, flying backward and smashing into a parked carriage on the roadside. The axle snapped, wooden planks splintered everywhere. He lay sprawled in the debris, eyes rolled back, out cold.
Whether it was the fat official witness or the tall lean man in the fur hat, both were gaping, jaws dropped into perfect "O"s big enough for two duck eggs, chins practically unhinged.
"That really was a one-punch deal. Did I win the challenge?" EeDechi turned to ask the fat official.
The fat official barely managed to close his jaw. He nodded, "Y-yes... you did..."
With a shaky hand, he pulled out a quill, crossed out Duncan Dalton on his roster, and wrote in EeDechi.