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Chapter 92. Twenty-five Miskal

  Ellis gripped tightly to the handle of his sword, fighting against the fatigue as best he could. The man in front of him was panting as well; he held two short swords in his hand and had a look of boiling frustration plastered on his face. He was an elfkin man who wore simple ranger’s clothes. But despite this superficial similarity, his swordplay was nothing even close to Telhari’s. While it was no easy task to defend against two blades at once, because Ellis was used to handling must faster strikes, he was able to manage far better than the man had expected.

  “Time is up!”

  The man’s jaw dropped at the sudden announcement.

  “But!? Wait! I’m not finished!”

  Mary shook her head.

  “Three minutes is the limit,” she said. “Please step to the side.”

  The man gritted his teeth, shoved his two blades back into their sheaths, and stomped away.

  “Give me a break, Mary!” Ellis groaned as he collapsed onto his butt.

  “Five minute break!” she called out to the people who were still lined up in front of them.

  Ellis panted heavily and reached behind him for a waterskin. He held it up to his mouth and drank the entire thing in seconds. As he began to cool down, Ellis took a look at the other Starspawn around him.

  Perry had only a few more challengers left; off to the side were the collapsed and exhausted warriors who had eagerly confronted him. Telhari had long since finished with his challengers as well. Ellis recalled that the first challenger to confront Telhari had been a massive armored man who had wielded a greatsword. Telhari had refused to draw his sword on the man and instead fought him with his blade still in its sheath. By the time the three minutes were up, the challenger had collapsed onto the ground and fell unconscious. After that, the remainder of the challengers had left Telhari and merged into the other lines.

  From over his shoulder, Ellis could hear a loud grunting sound come from the area where Perry was. He turned and watched as a man crumpled onto the ground and gripped at his forearm.

  “Time is up,” Avenell announced to him with a cold indifference.

  The man reached down to pick his ax up out of the dirt.

  “A match well fought,” Perry said as he offered him a hand. “Please step to the side and allow the others through.”

  The man bowed his head toward Perry and left from the area.

  Perry was about to wave over the next challenger when he saw a servant beckoning toward him from the entrance to the training ground.

  “I’ll be right back, Avenell.”

  Avenell waited patiently while Sir Perry spoke with the servant. After a minute or two, Perry began jogging back over to to the clearing.

  “You all have my sincerest apologies,” Perry began, “But I must depart for the day.”

  There were mixed sounds of relief and frustration from the waiting combatants as Perry made his announcement.

  “What is it, uncle?” Ellis called out to him as he stood up from the ground.

  “Nothing to worry about,” Perry said as he sheathed his sword. “There is a messenger from Eadenfros who has come to speak with me.”

  “Are they here now, Sir Perry?” Avenell asked. “Shall I have the staff prepare to receive them?”

  “There is no need, Avenell. I would rather you remain here to oversee the testing.”

  “As you wish.”

  Perry quickly gathered up his things and left the training grounds. Those few that remained in the queue to challenge him now looked around with uncertainty. After a few moments, they shrugged their shoulders and joined the adjacent queue in front of Ellis, who whimpered at the thought of having to fight so many more.

  As Ellis struggled to his feet, he caught Lyusya’s worried voice as it drifted over to him.

  “Ingrid, you must rest.”

  Ingrid was seated on a stool nearby; she was panting heavily and her face was pale.

  “You are pushing yourself too much,” Lyusya told her. “Your wounds are not fully healed.”

  “I am fine,” Ingrid insisted as she pushed Lyusya away. “There is still work to be done.”

  “She’s right,” Ellis said as he jogged over. “Please, you should rest.”

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  Ingrid wanted to protest, but she could not deny that her body was wracked with pain. She was a good deal more skilled than some of the combatants, but there were many still who had put up a fight. So much so that it took more effort than she had expected just to keep up with them. Under normal circumstances, this may not have been an issue; but these were not her normal circumstances.

  “Allow me to take over.”

  Telhari had joined them now; he was standing with his arms folded as he studied Ingrid.

  “Your body wishes to rest. If you continue to force it, you will never heal fully.”

  “Please?” Lyusya added with a smile.

  Ingrid bit down her frustrations. No matter much she hated it, they were right.

  “Alright,” she said finally.

  Lyusya helped Ingrid up and walked with her to the edge of the training grounds. Telhari watched them go, worrying to himself silently about Ingrid’s recovery. Once he was sure they were gone and that Ingrid had not changed her mind, he turned once more to the waiting combatants.

  “Now then,” Telhari said as he clapped his hands together. “Who would like to go next?”

  His innocent smile did very little to encourage the dozens of fearful faces that were gathered before him. There was an uncomfortable silence between them, as people slowly receded so as not to be the first one in line. Suddenly, the crowd began to churn and a small group pushed their way forward.

  Telhari gave them a friendly nod.

  “Which of one of you would like to begin?”

  There were four in total; and none of them moved.

  “So you’re the one they are all talking about, eh?”

  The first man to speak was an elfkin. Lithe and scrappy looking, he brandished a longsword in one hand and an eight inch dagger in the other.

  “Well,” Telhari began, “That depends on who they are.”

  “I don’t like this guy!”

  The next one to speak was one of the reptilian looking men Ellis had noticed before. He had a substantial build, and as he spoke he drew from his back a hefty and devastating mace. The man spun it in his hands a few times and stared down Telhari.

  “Be careful,” a third person warned. “If you underestimate him, you’ll lose that pretty face of yours.”

  The third individual stepped beside the others and drew back their hood. Underneath was the face of a dark skinned woman with several skin piercings. Her language was understandable, but carried an obvious accent from the desert cities of the west. From beneath the sleeve of her cloak, the woman drew out her hand which was encased in a sharpened metal armament shaped like the claws of a tiger. Fastened to the back of each armament were two different colored stones: one aquamarine and the other opalescent.

  By now, the remaining combatants had slowly begun to back away from the clearing. Ellis had moved to position himself next to Mary, while she herself had eyed a sword which lay several feet from her in its sheath.

  Telhari, meanwhile, kept his unshakable composure as he looked over the three people in front of him. And as he eyed them, the final group member emerged from the crowd. A rugged, middle-aged man with a scarred face, leathery skin, and an ornate hammer with inscriptions running along the metal bracing.

  “To think…an eighteen-year old quarry would appear suddenly on the other side of the world.”

  “You are bounty hunters?” Telhari asked, plainly.

  Mary lunged for the sword she had spied and tore it out of its sheath. Together, she stood side by side with Ellis who himself had brandished his own.

  “Easy now, little ones,” the dark skinned woman purred as she pointed the tip of her claws toward the two of them. “This matter does not concern you.”

  “It is alright,” Telhari told them. “There is no need to worry.”

  “Oh, on the contrary,” the rugged man said as he untied the cloak from his back and let it fall to the ground. “You have plenty to worry about.”

  In a second, the attackers fell into formation before Telhari. The elfkin man and the reptilian mace wielder stood side by side in the front. The dark skinned woman remained in the middle, whilst the middle-aged man kept himself in the rear. Telhari studied them as they moved; so much so, that even with their confidence on display, his piercing gaze made them uneasy.

  “And how much, might I ask, is my head worth to you?”

  “Twenty-five miskal dead,” the rugged man said with a grin. “Thirty alive. So unless you have a fat coin purse in that bag of yours, I think you had better come with us.”

  “It is not too late to reconsider.”

  The group sneered to themselves.

  “Reconsider?” the elfkin spat as he spun his blade in his hand. “The legends speak of our brother-kin in the mountains…But I wonder how good you really are?”

  “Easy, Ilmar,” the woman called, “You’re not the only one who wants to try this one out.”

  The rugged man shrugged his shoulders.

  “It looks like twenty-five it is.”

  The four of them held their stance. Telhari remained still and had no weapon in his hands; but even so they remained cautious.

  “Mary,” Telhari called. “Please start counting when I say so.”

  The group looked at each other.

  “Oi, you arrogant bastard,” the scaled man said as he growled at Telhari. “This isn’t a fucking game.”

  “You are all here to have your combat ability tested. As far as I am concerned, that is still my objective.”

  “You think we care about some shitty guild in the middle of this backwater country?” the woman laughed.

  Telhari frowned at this comment.

  “Your second mistake was insulting these people,” Telhari said in a grave tone.

  The elfkin man laughed at this statement. Then, he ran his dagger across the edge of his sword, sending sparks jumping into the air.

  “And what was the first?”

  Telhari glared fiercely at him.

  “Not having your friend take his shot while he had a chance.”

  A look of shock ran through the entire group; but it was too late.

  Telhari drew his blade in an instant, faster then either of them could have anticipated. He whipped his body around and pointed the tip of his blade toward the far end of the training grounds.

  “Mary,” he said, “Start counting.”

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