Since all my opponents were nice, I imagine my last one will be an asshole. Y'know, can't have me fighting all the nice people—that'd be toooo cliché.
He laughed, walking on the same street past the fruit stand and the turn before the two demi-human children.
Oh my goodness! Let me guess, let me guess—I'm fighting… a rich noble who's an asshole. WAIT! Even better, a pompous general with many titles—but still an asshole.
In his thought, he said his greetings to the llama and turned inward around a rhino beastman pulling a cart filled with watermelons—the watermelons forming a pyramid.
Whoa! I wonder if I could sit on that pyrami—
"Hello, sir!"
A familiar voice broke his train of thought. He looked ahead, seeing a crowd of demi-humans, blocking the footpath. Among them stood a tall woman with sleek black panther ears beside a white panther-eared man wearing stone mason's attire, a hunched, horse-eared old woman leaning on a cane, along with the familiar bear-eared boy in farmer's attire and the fox-eared boy in cleric's robes.
Oswald's eyes widened.
"What the… What's going on here?"
His head swiveled from left to right and back again.
The bear-eared boy glanced at the group beside him. "You gave us and told us to share. And so we did."
The horse-eared old lady walked forward with the help of her stick. "Sunny, in this kingdom here, where we're so often overlooked, set aside, and left out… you…" She pointed her stick at him. "Others may have lent a hand, but yours… yours meant a heap more."
She bowed slightly, as much as her back would let her. "Me, and all the folks, we surely do appreciate you tendin' to the young'uns… plantin' that good seed for what's to come."
A soft, overwhelmed laugh escaped him. He broke eye contact, doing his best to hold back tears.
"I uh—Ahem—appreciate that I could help… all of you with um… Ahem." He cleared his throat again, preventing his voice from cracking. "Two gold and I…"
He inhaled deeply, still avoiding eye contact.
Hold it in, Oswald. Hold it in.
He let out a silent whistle. "I h-hope that grows into… a village or a town…" He bowed. "Thank you!" then straightened. "Now, if you'll… excuse me. I-I have to head to the arena for my last fight."
The fox-eared boy nodded profusely. "We would like to accompany you to your final duel."
Sounds of agreement—'Yes,' 'Of course,' and similar—rose from the group.
Man…
He inhaled sharply.
I need a room.
"S-Sure." Oswald nodded.
And so—well, you know where he goes next, right? You don't need me to say it again, do you?
* * *
He blinked at the source of the hubbub—a massive crowd gathered outside the arena.
"Now we know where that's coming from."
He jumped up repeatedly, trying to see over the crowd. In his leap, he saw a group of guards forming a wall near the audience entrance and student's corner door. He turned around, looking at the demi-human group.
"I guess I'm leaving you people here."
The horse-eared old lady waved her hand. "Don't worry about us, Sunny. Go on ahead."
"Right. Goodbye everyone."
As he turned around, the bear-eared and fox-eared boy waved.
"Good luck!"
"I pray for your victory."
He began squeezing through the crowd.
"Coming through! Contestant here! Phew, almost stepped on your tail! Make room! Damn, you look nice— I-I mean, let me pass!"
By squeezing through and apologizing nonstop, he reached the wall of guards, where his friends stood waiting behind it.
What are they doing there?
He looked at the guard in front of him. "Hello, there! I'm a contestant, Oswald Jack."
The guard's eyes flashed with recognition. "Right this way!"
An opening was made for him, and he walked through.
"Good morrow, mine own friend. How fare thee this day?"
"Doing great, but… Who are these for? The queen? And how are you here instead of in the crowd?"
Korrin gave a knowing nod. "Pretty sure when I rocked up early, there were already a few people around. I was hangin' by the line of guards. One of 'em clocked me and asked my name. I told him, he waved me through, and here I am."
"Same happened t'me. Ya think they got a list or something?"
"Even so with me. Methinks only we, thy friends, are permitted to pass."
A VIP list?
After his train of thought, a fanfare of trumpets sounded around them—similar to the arrival of monarchs in medieval movies. The hubbub quieted, everyone faced the source. Far away and through the street, an opulent blue carriage, pulled by a wingless, blue-scaled baby wyvern—a horse-sized dragon—surrounded by a box of guards.
The carriage stopped before them, and the wall of guards parted, clearing a path to the student's corner door.
The Queen with her magenta braided hair and robe alongside the violet-haired maid, exited the carriage. Oswald and his friends knelt down.
Jesus Christ, that entrance. Secondly, boy the tension in the air. Thirdly—
"I bid you good luck."
Oswald looked up and saw the queen smiling. "T-Thank your majesty, with your good luck, I-I know I won't lose."
She chuckled behind her palm. "I am sure you won't."
Her Majesty and the maid passed their knelt forms and entered a doorway leading to the audience seats.
"Haaah. Man," he sighed, standing, "I thought I was going to crumble."
"Ya ain't wrong, she's got that presence."
On cue, the door to the student's corner opened.
"I guess, they were waiting for her."
"We shall leave thee unto thine own self. Good fortune attend thee in thy duel."
With a nod and a wave, Oswald entered the armory, leaving his friends to go to the audience seats.
* * *
ns216.73.216.216da2
and then Add to home screen.