Morse’s proposal was like a stone tossed into a vat of boiling oil, instantly causing the atmosphere in the Guild hall to reach a fever pitch.
A three-on-three match? And it was rookies challenging a long-established C-rank party? This was far more interesting than a simple verbal spat!
“Fine! I accept!”
Barton scrambled up from the floor, wiped a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth, and glared venomously at Helos and her companions.
He knew he couldn’t get the better of Morse, but if he could reclaim his dignity through a formal match, it would be for the best.
He refused to believe that his Steel Axe Party, a group that lived life on the edge, would lose to three wet-behind-the-ears brats!
“We have no problem with that either,” Helos said, shrugging with a relaxed tone.
Through her mask, she met Barton’s resentful gaze. Far from showing any fear, she tilted her head in deliberate provocation.
“However,” Morse said, raising a hand to stifle the explosive tension between the two sides, “not today.”
He glanced at Barton before shifting his gaze to Helos’s trio.
“His two teammates aren’t here right now. It wouldn’t be fair to them. Tomorrow, at the open space outside the West Gate. I will personally act as the referee.”
“Fine!” Barton agreed without hesitation. He gave Julius one last glare, as if trying to etch that handsome face into his memory.
Then, carrying a heart full of rage and a trace of indiscernible dread, he turned and left the Guild.
***
That night, in a corner of a cheap tavern in the Lower City.
Barton was gulping down ale. Across from him sat his two teammates.
One was lean with two crossed short daggers at his waist and a gaze as sharp as a hawk’s; he was the Steel Axe Party’s main melee combatant, Kahn of the Dual Blades.
The other was a tall woman carrying a longbow made of magic vine wood on her back; she was the team’s long-range marksman, Ella of the Magic Arrow. Together with Barton of the Steel Axe, they formed the entire party.
“Are you saying you were sent flying by a punch from a kid who looks like he hasn’t even hit puberty?” Kahn asked in an incredulous tone as he polished his blades. A mocking smirk played on his lips. “Barton, are you drunk out of your mind?”
“I’m not damn well drunk!” Barton slammed his wooden mug onto the table, splashing ale everywhere. “That kid’s strength is unnatural! And that woman…”
He recalled Gavi’s cold, pincer-like fingers, and a chill ran down the back of his neck. “That woman is even stranger! I didn’t even see how she moved before I was tossed out!”
Ella plucked her bowstring, producing a faint hum. She looked up, her eyes filled with doubt. “A woman and a child sent a big guy like you flying? Barton, you aren’t exaggerating, are you?”
“I am not joking!” Barton’s expression became exceptionally grim. He lowered his voice, speaking every word with absolute clarity.
“To be honest, tomorrow’s match is just for the sake of appearances since I was the one who provoked them. Truthfully, by the time Morse stepped in, I had already sobered up.”
He looked at his two teammates. The arrogance of the past was gone from his eyes, replaced only by deep wariness.
“I know exactly how much I’m worth. But those three handled me so effortlessly; they are definitely not ordinary rookies. Especially that masked girl—she didn’t even make a move!”
“Judging by the way the other two act, she’s the core of the team. Her strength is surely not to be underestimated!”
“So,” he took a deep breath and spoke with unprecedented seriousness, “tomorrow, we must go all out. Do not look down on them.”
Kahn and Ella exchanged a glance, both seeing a hint of surprise in the other’s eyes. They rarely saw Barton look so solemn. It seemed tomorrow’s match might not be as simple as they had imagined.
***
The next day, outside the West Gate of Olivius City.
A large crowd of idle adventurers had already gathered on the vast stretch of open grassland. They huddled in groups of two or three, whispering among themselves.
Clearly, they were all here for the show. After all, a scenario where rookies challenged a C-rank party was rare. Furthermore, they could watch the excitement for free without going to the arena, so why not?
Helos and her companions arrived as scheduled. Once they took their positions, Barton approached from the opposite side with his two teammates.
“Hmph, you brats won’t be so lucky today!” Barton glared at them, trying to overwhelm them with his presence. “Today, I’ll show you what a real adventurer is!”
However, Helos merely crossed her arms and let out a disdainful scoff through her mask. “You certainly talk big. I wonder if those muscles of yours are as empty as your head?”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly to everyone’s ears. That sarcastic tone caused Barton’s face to turn the color of a pig’s liver instantly.
“You!”
“Me, what?” Helos tilted her head. “Who was the one who got knocked down by a single punch yesterday and then tossed out like trash? What, did the wounds heal overnight but your memory get worse?”
*Pfft—*
The surrounding adventurers couldn’t hold it back any longer and erupted into a chorus of laughter.
“You brat! You’re sharp-tongued!” Barton trembled with rage, his grip on his battle axe creaking.
“Better than some guy who’s all brawn and no brains, right?” Helos shot back without backing down. “You can’t even speak clearly, just howling. I thought some stray demonized wild boar had escaped its leash.”
“Say that again!”
“What if I do? Don’t tell me you want to get beaten again in front of Master Morse?”
The two traded insults back and forth. Using the wealth of experience she had accumulated in her previous life, Helos’s words hit every mark.
She frustrated Barton so much he nearly had a stroke on the spot, causing the audience to double over in laughter.
Julius stood to the side, watching his young lady’s performance of ‘quoting classics’ and ‘spitting fragrance.’ He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He couldn’t help but raise a hand to cover his face.
‘It’s over… it’s all over…’ he wailed in his heart.
‘No wonder Duke Eisend insisted we hide our identities. If outsiders found out the Noble Daughter of the Duke Olivias family had such a personality, wouldn’t the Duke’s reputation be utterly ruined?’
“Alright, both of you, shut up!”
Finally, Morse, acting as the referee, couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped forward, using his steady voice to stop the escalating war of words. “Is everyone ready?”
He walked to the side of the field and scanned the surroundings.
After confirming both sides were prepared, he slowly raised his hand. With his booming voice, he officially announced the start of the match.
“The three-on-three team match—begin!”
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