The Big Catch (2)
Word of the sudden spectacle spread, turning the once quiet banquet hall into a swarming hive of activity.
God only knew where they had caught wind of it, but nobles who had not even slept off their hangovers came stumbling in, their bloodshot eyes glittering with cheap anticipation. Quite a sight, honestly.
Then again, in a medieval fantasy world chronically starved for dopamine, what else was there to live for? Besides, the visual alone was pure sensationalism: a hulking, bald bodyguard knight squared off against a slender, drop-dead gorgeous woman in a maid uniform, preparing for a duel.
Even so, the one enjoying the biggest dopamine rush right now was none other than me.
"Ah, now this is what I'm talking about. This is the whole reason I dragged her along in the first place."
Tables had been shoved aside, and a magical barrier was erected to form a makeshift sparring ring. Listening to the murmurs of the nobles clustered tightly around its perimeter, nearly every single one of them was betting on the guard knight, Shabat whatever-his-name-was. From the snatches of conversation I caught, they even had seemingly solid justifications—what monsters he had slain, which battlefields had made him famous, and what exploits guaranteed his victory.
"Hehehe..."
I could barely contain myself imagining the looks on their faces once they witnessed Muriel's overwhelming, one-sided victory.
Savoring my liquor as it slid smoothly down my throat, I waited in leisurely comfort until a nameless noble acting as referee raised his voice.
"Ahem! Ladies and gentlemen gathered here today. We shall now commence the duel between Shabat Rex, knight escort to Count Ernis Gurka, and Muriel, the... er... maid? Attendant to Lord Stanashila Aljen."
The murmurs among the aristocracy swelled instantly at his words.
"No family name? Is she a commoner?"
"More importantly, a maid? You mean she's literally just a maid?"
"What on earth is Lord Stanashila Aljen thinking?"
"I didn't come here to watch a slaughter..."
"I only hope it doesn't get too gruesome."
That collective hum of confusion and dismay served as the finest bar snack I could have asked for. The mere thought that their doubt, bewilderment, and pity would soon turn into utter shock, horror, and awe sent a thrilling shiver straight down my spine.
"Should Muriel win, Count Ernis Gurka shall pay Lord Stanashila Aljen the sum of one million gold! Should Shabat Rex win, Lord Stanashila Aljen shall answer any question posed by Count Ernis Gurka! The outcome shall be determined upon surrender or complete incapacitation. Taking the opponent's life is strictly forbidden. Please conduct yourselves with restraint and composure."
With that, the referee stepped outside the boundary and shouted:
"Begin!"
Schwing!
The moment the call rang out, Shabat whatever-his-name-was hoisted his weapon. It was a massive, long-hafted battle axe, bearing countless scars from desperate battles that radiated a menacing pressure all on their own.
"...Are you not going to draw your weapon?"
"I am deliberating."
"What?"
"I was considering what form of victory my master would prefer."
"...Are you looking down on me?"
As he growled with a furious glare, Muriel scoffed under her breath and drew a dagger. Seeing her act like that always reminded me that she was hardly a saint herself. It was a miracle she functioned as a maid at all.
"Ending this too quickly would ruin the mood, I suspect. I shall indulge you for a bit."
"...Do not blame me when you end up crippled."
"Do your best."
"Hmph!"
Boom!
Riled by her utterly nonchalant attitude, the man sank into a low crouch before lunging forward, bringing his axe down in a sweeping cleave. A ferocious blow that sounded as if it would tear through the very air.
Claaang!
Muriel deflected the strike by a hair's breadth, springing back to put distance between them.
"Ooh! She blocked that completely clean!"
"Perhaps calling her a maid is just a cover!"
"Are you saying that maid is a knight of the Stanasila Knights?"
"Surely not! Any knight with an ounce of honor and pride wouldn't dress like that, even on Lord Aljen's orders! More likely she's a Shadow—"
"Watch your tongue, man."
"Gah! M-My apologies..."
"Your mouth is going to get you killed one day. What would you have done if I wasn't here to stop you?"
"Ahem. Thank you..."
"Whoa!? The maid is countering!"
"She's fast!"
While the nobles babbled in excitement, Muriel put on a dazzling display of acrobatics, precariously dodging and parrying the axe before slipping inside his guard to drive an elbow deep into the pit of his stomach. The strike was so subtly delivered that it looked almost accidental.
"Guhk!?"
Air choked off from his lungs, his face flushed crimson as his body froze for a fraction of a second. It was the golden opportunity to end the duel then and there... but Muriel didn't press the advantage. Instead, she skipped back a few paces.
"Cough... You wench. What are you playing at?"
"Fufu. It would be such a pity to end it there. My master would be disappointed."
"You little bitch...!"
Fwhoooosh!
Unable to stomach further provocation, Shabat whatever-the-hell finally unleashed his aura. Because he couldn't project a clear, solid mental image into reality, it flickered unstably and bled outward, hemorrhaging energy, yet the sheer density teetering on the verge of solidifying came remarkably close to an Aura Blade.
"Oho..."
He was definitely at the Aura Top-tier. In the not-so-distant future, he might even become a Sword Master. Wait, if he had, wouldn't he have been mentioned in the game's lore book? Maybe his fate was to hit that wall and die without ever crossing it.
"Whoa...! What incredible aura! Could that be an Aura Blade!?"
"You idiot! How could that be an Aura Blade? Open your eyes!"
"Still, it's unmistakably close. Quite a talent."
"He might become a Sword Master before long."
"A figure destined for the history books, you mean...!?"
Man, just listening to these nobles prattle on was entertainment in itself. Smirking, I watched the chatter of the excited aristocrats before glancing back toward Muriel. Right on cue, she turned her eyes toward me. A gaze seeking permission, or perhaps asking a question.
"...Knock yourself out."
I shrugged and gave her a slight nod. At that, a bewitching smile played upon her lips, and she raised her dagger high.
"Hm? What is she doing?"
"Is she yielding? Well, after seeing that aura, no one in their right mind would want to keep fighting... Wait?"
"Uh, what? What is that? Huh?"
The nobles, who had been muttering in dismissive condescension, widened their eyes as their jaws dropped. The patronizing cheers, the egging on, the appraisal, the mockery, the laughter... every single scrap of noise died instantly.
"...God, that's thrilling."
A shiver rippled down my spine.
That pitch-black aura didn't waver or bleed uselessly into the air. Like a sheath, like a physical, inanimate object anchored in reality, it perfectly coated the blade, glinting with a razor-sharp, lethal edge.
"...An Aura... Blade...?"
"I-Is... is that real? Is that genuinely an Aura Blade...?"
"No way..."
Their speechlessness, their pathetic stammering—it was such a delicious spectacle that I could barely contain my glee.
"Ah, damn, this booze goes down smooth~"
I jammed the bottle to my lips and chugged, reveling in the intoxicating rush of ecstasy.
"......"
Muriel's opponent stood frozen, stunned into a stone statue with no words left to say.
"...If you have lost your will to fight, I shall bring this to an end."
"What? No, wait! Just—!"
His words never finished. Because before he could, she had already cut him. Yet no blood spilled.
Clatter! Clang-clang!
The battle axe, sliced cleanly into several pieces, crashed to the floor in a noisy heap. Utterly stripped of his fighting spirit, the man collapsed right where he stood.
And that was it. A somewhat anticlimactic conclusion, but there was no need to spill blood.
"Oops~ Well now, that's too bad, isn't it? Ernis... Ernis... what was it again? Whatever. Good effort."
I patted the guy who had wagered against me on the shoulder, rubbing it in his face, but sadly, the poor bastard was so thoroughly shell-shocked he couldn't even muster a response.
"Tsk, boring... Since I won the bet, make sure you send over the one million gold on your own. Got it?"
Stepping away from him, I turned to greet Muriel, who had already sheathed her weapon and was walking over with light, graceful steps.
"Good work, Muriel. Thanks to you, that was the most fun I've had in ages."
"I am glad you enjoyed it. His skill was rather abysmal, so I was somewhat concerned."
"Keke. You shouldn't say that out loud. Where are your manners?"
"My, forgive me."
"Y-You...!"
As Muriel demurely covered her mouth, the count finally snapped out of his daze, his face flushing crimson a beat too late as he struggled to swallow his fury.
"Kh...! I-I lost the bet. I concede. A Sword Master... There was no way anyone could beat a talent like that. Haha... Once word of this spreads, the fallout will be monumental. Ahem... I shall send the funds shortly. I-If you will excuse me."
His desperate struggle to maintain composure was downright pitiful. Watching his back rapidly recede into the distance, I glanced sideways at Muriel. As always, her face was a blank, emotionless mask, but maybe it was just my imagination—she looked a little more flushed with vitality than usual.
"Muriel."
"Yes, Lord Aljen."
"I feel like showing you off a little more. You don't mind, right?"
"Showing me off... in what manner?"
Instead of answering, I pulled her tight against my side and gave her ripe, full bottom a firm squeeze. It was soft enough to swallow my hand, yet resilient enough to push back against my fingers—the absolute peak of tactile satisfaction.
"My...?"
"Come on, let's head back to our room. Things are gonna get annoying once these nobles come to their senses."
"...Is this what you meant by showing off?"
"Of course it is. Showing off that an incredible woman like you is mine. Showing everyone that you belong to me, so hands off."
"That... does not sound unpleasant at all. In that case, allow me as well."
She wound an arm around my waist and leaned her head against my shoulder.
"A demonstration that Lord Aljen belongs to me, just as I belong to Lord Aljen, you see?"
"Not bad at all."
Trading knowing smiles, we hurriedly slipped out of the stunned, quiet banquet hall. A belated wave of clamor erupted behind us, but neither of us looked back—not even once.