Paying the Fine -4-

Clang! Kakang! A sharp resonant clang echoed through the chapel. Malik and Pascal's duel. It was a tense back-and-forth.

Maybe he can handle this alone.

Tempered by tension, he was pressing Pascal hard. Whenever Malik's sword smashed down on Pascal's dagger, Pascal's stance wobbled badly. Watching Malik's overwhelming brute strength and domineering swordplay, I started to hypothesize that he might actually win.

As expected of the Histania family.

The son ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the knight commander. The sub-male lead, Malik. The eldest son of Histania displayed skills far beyond what I'd imagined. It was clear now why Rowen had said Hanna had no talent—Malik's gifts stood out starkly by comparison.

It took him just one minute to read Pascal's swordsmanship. Three minutes to gauge the time needed for black magic deployment. He showed monstrous adaptability in analyzing his opponent in under five minutes. He countered Pascal's magic probing for openings with body-enhancement spells, dazzled with flashy swordwork to scatter his focus, hid the real strike amid feints, and calmly sliced Pascal's shoulder. No wonder he boasted he could take Pascal solo.

With skills like that, most criminals would surrender rather than fight back. I didn't know if the Imperial Knights were all monsters like him, but one thing was sure: Malik was on par with Pascal.

But if we went by experience, Malik couldn't match him. Pascal had crossed countless battlefields and death lines, snuffing out many adventurers' lives. He had talent rivaling Malik's, honed razor-sharp by real combat.

-Kaang...!

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Blocking Malik's sword with a dagger barely longer than his forearm, Pascal grinned.

"This too easy, isn't it?"

From a third-party view, Malik clearly had the edge, yet Pascal taunted him with a relaxed smile.

Malik bristled at the bluff.

"You lost your mind thinking about going back to prison?"

"Nah. I was scared of the Histania name before."

Whoosh.

Pascal lunged with his dagger. Malik couldn't dodge. Blood trickled from his cheek, and Pascal beamed, licking the blood off his blade.

"You're way more pathetic than I thought. Kiheheh."

Having read the novel, I knew. Pascal was the Archbishop of Madness. A giggling psycho who provoked no matter the situation.

Especially his ability...

-Wobble.

...was body manipulation. After the cheek slash, Malik's body lurched badly. The more it staggered, the more wounds accumulated, and as Pascal savored the blood on his blade, Malik's strength slowly ebbed away.

His body swaying against his will, Malik demanded of Pascal.

"What the hell did you do?"

Pascal shrugged in lieu of an answer.

"Who knows?"

Bam!

Malik swung his sword wide, aiming precisely for Pascal's neck. A massive horizontal slash—but it cleaved not Pascal, but a chapel chair in half.

"Where you swinging that? Winter ain't even here—trying to chop firewood?"

"Shut up..."

"Kehehet..."

Pascal sheathed his dagger at his waist and strode toward Malik. The sharp click-clack of his hard boot heels rang through the chapel like a death knell. Malik shuddered violently.

"Now~ Mr. Malik... Mr. Malik... What genre do you like?"

Even within striking range, Malik's body wouldn't move. He bit his lip hard, straining to swing his sword, but his body had long betrayed his will.

"..."

Pascal's face lit with certainty. Malik was ensnared by his black magic. He stepped right up to Malik's face.

"A wistful romance of impossible love? Or heart-pounding action? Oh, this sounds good—comedy where Histania's eldest son is utterly useless!"

"Shut your fucking mouth before I rip it off...!"

"Puhahat, keep going, Mr. Malik."

"Shut up."

"More... more... More! Thrash around to become my finest artwork."

His eyes mad with glee, Pascal commanded.

"Laugh."

Pascal kneaded Malik's face, forcing a grin. Compelling him to bare his gums in a rictus smile. Malik trembled with rage. Pathetic, helpless, defeated by one moment's lapse—it was utterly humiliating.

Seeing the hatred in Malik's eyes, Pascal smiled in satisfaction.

"Finally, another masterpiece complete. What should I name it..."

He glanced at me in the chair.

"Friendship?"

His eyes seeking approval, I slowly stood.

"I'm not big on comedy."

"Huh?"

"Personally, I prefer romance over comedy."

"Actors in my works don't get to pick the genre?"

"Ah! Like bugs can't choose their terrarium?"

"Just die."

Stripped of bodily control, Malik advanced on me. The closer he got, the madder Pascal's laughter grew. Sword in hand, body fortified with magic, yet steeped in self-loathing.

"...Run. Even you can't beat this guy."

Malik squeezed his eyes shut. All the freedom left to him was his mouth.

Damn it.

He didn't want to be a liability after boasting he could handle it. Pathetic, useless—he was mortified.

Should've backed off when I told him not to come, stubborn bastard. Then this humiliation could've been avoided.

Malik bit his lip bloody. Blood trickled down his chin—looked rough.

"Sorry."

Malik's sword hovered at my neck, its honed edge politely poised to sever my windpipe. His hand trembled faintly. Putting up some resistance, I guess. Admirable, really. I said sincerely,

"Hey, Malik."

"Run..."

"Feeling pretty damn embarrassed right now, huh?"

"Fuck!"

Malik spat the curse. Hated me for crushing his noble sacrifice, probably. But how could I resist teasing?

Eating chicken in front of someone dieting is the height of fun.

I sneered.

"Said you could do it alone. Where'd that confident guy run off to?"

"Shut up."

"Hanna's way more impressive, honestly. At least she swung a flyswatter at the mantis."

Pascal flinched at "flyswatter." PTSD kicking in.

"Now, watch closely."

I drew my sword, infusing it richly with aura. Packed it in until it nearly burst.

"This is tough love."

People learn from getting hit, after all. Start with the beating, end with the lesson.

"It'll sting, but endure it. That's how the black magic breaks."

I told Pascal too. Gotta give equal chances at redemption.

"Mr. Mantis. Watch closely."

"?"

"Electric flyswatter."

Crimson aura surged in thickly. I sensed something off.

"Uh-oh, overdid the power."

Flash! Malik's vision lit up white.

Morning sun lit the chapel. Coming to, Malik clutched his pounding head and sat up.

"What the...?"

Next to him lay foaming Pascal, clutching his hand tightly.

"Young master awake?"

A family knight greeted him with clasped hands. Morning already? And Pascal beside him? Questions swirled, but one burned brightest.

Malik asked the knight.

"Where'd that bastard go?"

Avoiding his eyes, the knight replied.

"Curfew's strict—he headed back at dawn."

Malik thought of the red-haired butler. True son of a bitch.

"Let go!"

Now insect-pinned for transport, Pascal writhed. I shed pitying tears his way.

"Don't cry."

Battered everywhere, haggard Malik patted my shoulder.

"It's embarrassing. Please don't cry."

"But... sending away such a good moneymaker hurts my heart..."

"Please..."

Malik seemed to have gained insight from the fight. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠No aura awakening, but personal growth as a human? Beatings really are the answer.

Still hot-tempered, but he seemed to view me favorably now.

Malik said,

"Soon as this wraps, I'm apologizing to Hanna."

"You've become human."

"Yeah."

I liked his change.

"If she wants to hit you, take it."

"...She gonna?"

"Said she'd beat you ragdoll if she got the chance."

"..."

Malik swallowed dryly. Aura-wielding little sister's blows? Sounded brutal.

Boarding Pascal's transport wagon, Malik said,

"Quest fee to the account I used for the bounty last time?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Before leaving, he pulled two vouchers from his breast pocket and placed them in my hand.

"And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠take these."

"What's this?"

"Forest Friend meal tickets. Hard to reserve—go with the lady when you're free."

Forest Friend. Novel's top-five restaurant. Lady'd love it.

Come to think of it, he'd shifted from calling her "that ruined family's daughter" to "lady."

I smiled faintly.

"Thanks."

Looking forward to an outing with the lady after so long. My mood lifted.