WebNovels

Chapter 47 - 2.32: Looking For a Sparring Buddy

People rarely picked up fights with Lucian, if ever. His weak constitution was a well-known fact, so most would think he was an easy target. But his eyes always had a certain gleam in them that made others think twice.

It annoyed Voice somehow. It would rather have everyone pick up fights with Lucian instead (to prove Lucian its point that he couldn't avoid confrontatios forever).

Thanks to that, Lucian's experience in fighting could be summed up in three words: he had none.

His success kill rate though, was a hundred percent. So far.

If Lucian listened to every of Voice's whims, he would have been a lonely assassin, who would rather solo missions than work in a group. A poor one. So poor, he would die from hunger before his first kill.

'I hear you,' Voice said, but Lucian ignored it, showing his dissatisfaction in the form of a silent treatment.

The man who was yelling at Lucian, stopped mid-sentence, "..."

Lucian smiled at him in a way that said, 'Fight me, fight me now, or I will fight you.'

The man backed away, his hand raised in surrender, "Sorry, my mistake. I didn't see you there."

Lucian grabbed his shoulder, "I don't think you are sorry enough. Let's go outside and have a friendly chat, shall we?"

The man yanked his shoulder, a fist aimed at Lucian's jaw. Lucian's quick reflexes grabbed the man's wrist, using the momentum to spin him around.

A kick in the back of his knee made him lose his balance, and Lucian used the opportunity to slam his face on the table.

A loud groan filled the tavern, and the room went silent.

Lucian tried a few moves he saw in the fights he witnessed, but he still felt like an imposter.

His eyes scanned the room for his next target.

This was not the reaction Lucian expected. He expected a brawl, a fight, something that would get his blood pumping and his adrenaline running. Not caution.

Well, when he thought of it again, the northerners weren't known for being aggressive as the southerners.

"Ah, my bad," Lucian said, his voice suddenly changing to a soft, apologetic one. He let go of the man. "I just started today, so I'm still new to this, sorry."

The easiest would be to throw the man at the crowd and make others join the fight, but did he want everyone to gang up on him? Not really. Lucian's plan failed before it even began.

'I need to learn how to fight, not how to win,' Lucian thought to himself, his eyes fixed on the man he had just attacked, "I'm just here to collect the debt. You owe Lucian Arclight, the landscape contractor, a lot of money."

The man scrawled away, his friends making path for him. "I... I will pay. I will pay. Just give me some time." He scrambled out of the tavern.

"When?" Lucian called after him, "I need a date."

"Next week! I will pay next week!" the man yelled from the street.

Lucian sighed, his shoulders slumping. He had just lost a potential sparring partner.

'This is not working,' he thought to himself.

He didn't want to pick up fights with random people and the idea of paying someone to beat him up was not appealing either. He would just get arrested.

Martial arts were a kept secret, reserved for the nobles and the knights. The city guards were usually failed knights who had managed to pass a physical test. The rest of failed knights would return to their families and live a normal life.

All men had some level of training, except the blond ones. Giving them a chance would be a waste of resources. The blonds were destined for the life of artisans, peddlers or priests.

The priest was the most popular one, since it gave them easier access to medicine and the profession also held more prestige than a regular citizen.

"Any mercenaries for hire?" Lucian asked the people present and the two hooded brothers from earlier raised their hands.

"Follow me," Lucian said.

The two brothers followed him out of the tavern, tugging their hoods over their faces to hide from the rain.

Lucian led them to a secluded alley, away from prying eyes. "I'm looking for someone to train me. I need to learn how to fight."

"..." The brothers looked at each other, wondering if Lucian was taking them for a joke.

"You just took down a man without breaking a sweat. And now you want us to train you?" the younger brother, who was a bit more hot-headed, asked.

"Yes," Lucian said, his expression serious. "I want to retake the knight's test in the future. And you two look like you know what you're doing. You can also get some money for your troubles."

The brothers looked at each other again, their minds racing. They were in need of money, and this looked like an easy job.

They would just have to pretend to train him, and he would pay them. Easy money. "We accept."

Lucian nodded, his expression still serious. "Good. Come with me then."

He led them to his shop,the backyard. It was a small space surrounded by brick walls, with a well and a few empty pots stacked in a corner.

"First, I need to test your skills," Lucian said, his voice low. "I need to know if you're good enough to train me."

"Alright," the younger brother said, finding his reasoning fair, he cracked his knuckles. "Let's do this."

"No," Lucian said, shaking his head. "Not with me. I want you two to fight each other."

The brothers looked at each other again, this time with confusion written all over their faces.

"Us? Why?" the older brother asked.

"I need to see your fighting style. How you move, how you attack, how you defend. I need to know if we're a good match," Lucian explained, his eyes scanning them from head to toe.

The older brother sighed, "You heard him. Let's give him a show."

The younger brother grinned, "With pleasure."

They exchanged a few blows, their fists and feet connecting with a dull thud.

They were evenly matched, and it was hard to tell who was winning.

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