570. Preliminaries XII

570. Preliminaries XII

Omen: 11, 18

‘I should increase my bets,’ Adam thought. ‘If I split some of the winnings between everyone, even two hundred gold will be too little. I should at least give them all a tiny bit, but Nobby and Brittany should get the most since...’ Adam wasn’t sure why they should get the most. ‘Since they were the first to believe in me?’

Adam sighed. ‘I can’t bet too much, can I? Won’t the arena get annoyed with me? I wonder what the biggest bets amount to. There’s no way we’ve broken that when the Duchess can swing around tens of thousands of gold with ease.’

“Chief Executive Officer Kitool!” came the shout from one side, before it was repeated.

“Chief Executive Officer Jaygak!” came the shout from the other side, before it was repeated.

Adam furrowed his brows. ‘What?’

‘What?’ Jaygak thought, frowning as she stared at Kitool opposite her. She gathered they’d have faced each other like this, but to think it would be so soon. ‘I should have guessed since my luck had been so good.’

Jaygak and Kitool circled around the arena, while everyone was beginning to place their bets.

‘Probably Kitool, right?’ Adam thought, feeling the gazes of his companions sear into his soul. Adam crossed his arms, and did not make a motion.

A worker passed by their table, pausing. “Are you not wishing to bet?”

“No,” Adam replied, simply.

Rick met Remy’s eyes, and the pair remained silent, not moving to bet their coin on either Iyrman.

“Who do you think will win?” Vonda asked.

“The Iyrman,” Adam replied, simply.

Vonda smiled, wondering if she should tease Adam more, but she decided against it.

Jaygak and Kitool met in the centre of the arena, while the bets had been placed. The bets were fairly even, with a slight edge towards Kitool, since she had faced against plenty of opponents wearing heavy armour, though none had been Iyrmen.

Jurot crossed his arms as he watched the fight from the wall. He had essentially forced him way into the wall to watch it, the same as Timojin and Amokan, who stood on the opposite side. They each thought against who was going to win, instead focusing on the pair ahead of them.

Jaygak held Stormdrake in hand, gripping it tight, tighter than she had ever done so before. Kitool held Tigerstaff, pointing it towards her best friend. She inhaled sharply, before letting out a soft breath.

The guards shouted for the pair to begin, but neither moved. A second passed. Two seconds. Three seconds. The three seconds felt almost like an eternity, and the entire arena was eerily quiet. The sounds of distant fighting from the arenas could barely be heard.

The tension snapped.

‘Aren’t the fights only going to get better now? Since they’re be facing only the greatest of warriors?’ Adam wasn’t sure how it worked exactly, but he assumed that the quality of the fights were going to increase, and the fights were going to become more even.

“Whoa,” Adam said, looking at Jurot as he returned from his fight. “You look like crap.”

Jurot, whose hair was dishevelled, and was bandaged by the arena’s priests, sat down opposite Adam. “The Order of Ice Blades gave their Rage Dancer a set of magical items which almost matched Phantom and Mighty Roar.”

“Oh yeah?”

“They must have bet on Logan,” Jurot said.

“I didn’t hear any thunder.”

“I did not need to use it.”

Adam smiled. ‘Hehe. That’s my brother.’

“Logan wielded Third Ice,” Jurot said.

Brittany almost spat out her drink, wiping her mouth quickly as she stared at Jurot. “Third Ice? The sword made from the Silver Dragon Queen of the North?”

“Yes,” Jurot replied.

Jaygak sobered up from hearing the name of the blade, and exchanged a look with Kitool. Third Ice?

‘What?’ Adam thought. “Silver Dragon Queen of the North?”

“Antalia, Queen Silvari’s mother,” Jurot explained. “She was hunted down by the White Dragon Knights, though the price was their utter demise, and a great shift which rocked the entirety of the north. The King of Aldland at the time managed to assist the Blacksnow family in stabilising the region, before they were able to force their way into Drakkenlan to sack and raze much of its southern region. Drakkenlan has barely recovered since.”

“Third Ice is made of Antalia?”

Jurot nodded. “Third Ice is the weakest of the Three Blades of Ice. First Ice, Second Ice, Third Ice. Third Ice is a Greater Enhanced blade. Second Ice is a Legendary Enhanced Blade. First Ice is an Artefact.”

Adam whistled. “Damn.”

“Logan must be a candidate to become the Grand Commander of the Order, or he would be unable to wield Third Ice as an Expert.”

“And you, Jurot, son of Sonarot, have beaten him?” Adam asked.

“Yes,” Jurot replied, a shadow of a smile appearing on his face.

Poor Jaygak.