Chapter 314- A silent boot

A silent boot

The burning torches cast a flickering yet steady glow as they crackled from the thick wooden pillars. Aided by the miniature bonfires intermittently popping from the braziers outside the ring, the lighting proved sufficient for both combatants and circling spectators. The whispers among the young nobles ceased because of the creaking hinges that stifled their breaths. The expectant eyes glowed on faces filled with anticipation since this battle differed like gold and mud from the ones earlier.

Two pairs of boots stepped into the empty ring of dirt as the stout door of the timber fence closed with a foreboding groan.

Envious eyes of the habitual onlooker glanced towards the chiseled figure of young master Cleft who presided like a motionless mountain. Some then flickered with pity and condescending looks to the small squirming figure that seemed to occupy a seat of nails. As the arena summoned their concentration, these regular visitors to the stables possessed invaluable information.

Previous battles already determined that only one pair of feet would leave this ground tonight. The only variable within their waiting minds lay in the quality and quantity of bloodshed and dismemberment.

Within the enclosure, the comparison between the fighters matched the bearings of their benefactors.

The stalwart man strode into the ring like an emperor claiming his lands. On firm legs, he stood in the center, as his narrow eyes surveyed his domain. More grey than black hair filled his head and the groomed goatee on a slightly wrinkled face. The aura bursting fort highlighted a fighter who reached the desired apex, that of a beefy body in its prime controlled by a shrewd mind.

His opponent tiptoed like a barefooted man navigating a ground lined with thistles and thorns. The hunched shoulders and defeated posture also matched that of a competent loser. On locking eyes together, the teen stumbled while halting more than ten feet away.

On hearing the gong and the confirmational shout, the man watched the teen raise a shivering sword. Curling his thin lip, he tossed his cloak open with a wave of his left arm. His right hand then emerged from beneath the other half as it dragged the sword with a fluid motion from the scabbard. This practiced move shed his cloak behind his broad shoulders to reveal his polished and embossed leather armor. With the iron tip of his sword pointing to hell, the man gazed at the puny ant.

"Did you hope to whittle away the time by keeping your distance and then lunging near the end to try and draw blood?"

The condescending tone exited his expressionless face while his feet and body readied to attack. He slowly raised his sword to point it at the chest of his opponent. Observing the raised eyebrows on the puzzled face standing beyond normal reach, he continued.

"Carry this final lesson tonight to hell. Frost City is not a place for unruly children."

As soon as his instructive words exited, his frame tensed into a slight crouch. The narrowed eyes locked onto the chest of the inexperienced opponent. Like a sprinter waiting to explode at the signal, he coiled within half a breath. In his focused concentration, he naturally overlooked the fact that the wobbling sword had turned steady.

Both erupted together.

With a terrifying bellow, the Sersen seemed to disappear in the ring. To the young nobles who witnessed this man in previous battles, they barely manifested the blurring charge. The recollection of the rushing attack followed by the bloody skewering or half-body decapitation surfaced from their memories.

The agonizing scream had been anticipated.

And so to the splurting blood.

But the script, however, deviated from the norm.

The Sersen screamed again on the ground while clutching his left foot. More precisely, his fingers had long discarded his sword and wrapped themselves around his upper shin. The bloody fingers proved futile in stemming the scarlet lifeforce that pumped and whetted the soil.

Rolling onto his back, the onlookers couldn't help but ignore the blood and dirt matting the groomed hair and beard. Presently, the disbelievers stared at the silent leather boot which bled nearby the sobbing man.

Young master Cleft leaped from his seat as his face turned pale. The appearances on the other young masters whether yet sitting or who staggered on their feet matched his own. Except for the intermittent groan, the stable remained gripped in shocked silence.

"Urgh..."

The slight moan reminded the dumbfounded spectators that two individuals occupied the ring. The motionless corpse lying flat on its belly stirred.

Occupying a position midway between the wounded man and his boot, Ming never let his hidden eyes stray from his target. Noticing the outcome from his sprawled position, left him satisfied with his performance. Grunting, he then staggered to his feet with the use of his sword. As his eyes fell onto the stained blade, the onlookers witnessed the expression of shock and fear that flashed across his face.

Tensing his position into a defensive stance, he rotated on the spot to find his enemy. His acting displayed a fighter who only lowered his guard in confusion. The words that sprouted next only served to extend their open jaws further.

"Ahh! What the hell happened here?! Wasn't I the one who stumbled?!"

With the outcome fresh in the minds of the onlookers, a voice pierced the silence hovering outside the ring.

"What a lucky bastard! This idiot actually tripped and fell when he tried to launch an attack as his opponent was speaking. But who knew that eating dirt would actually save him from that unavoidable strike by a Sersen no less. That dog luck probably caused his outstretched blade to sever the foot of the rushing man..."

The words Chu muttered out loud while standing with his eyes anchored inside the ring instigated a ripple of comments.

"Ah, what rotten luck wasted on a fool! I really did see something like that. But I was so busy trying to focus on the Sersen..."

"I witnessed it also. That guy wanted to attack when the Sersen was speaking but tripped on his two left legs! I saw him eating dirt at the same time a boot flew out. Then I saw the Sersen diving and rolling on the ground. By the Heavens, this guy probably used up all his luck for nine generations."

Chu let the trail of thought he initiated gather steam from the surrounding nobles. Seeing young master Cleft discard all semblance of pride while rushing towards the ring, he sprang from the bench and hollered.

"Hey, you black-haired idiot! You yet need to win the fight! You have to make the man admit to defeat or kill him!"

The yelling from the fatty caused young master Cleft to totter. His eyes boggled and stared towards the plump noble. As the fatty continued to shout, his words caused the listening young masters to splutter in the middle of their discussions. Witnessing a Sersen being defeated in this manner astounded them but the words meant their pouches would also bleed.

Oggling eyes filled with dread shifted from this despicable fatty to the agreements clutched by his servant. Pails wrapped his arms tightly around the stack of parchments while returning the glares around him. As a Behemoth gang lieutenant, he experienced a fair share of skirmishes. Secretly inside his heart, however, he cried bitterly.

Did the boss not know the meaning of being low-key?

This was not a bunch of wayward thugs, you know...

Ming glanced at young master Cleft heading to the entrance. Trodding casually, he walked next to the half-conscious man. Using the flat of the blade, he then lightly tapped the exposed clotted bone. His action caused the Sersen to groan back into the world of the sentient.

"Oi, oi! Hurry and admit defeat. I can't wait to return home to my village and boast about defeating a Sersen. Hmm, those village bastards might not believe me though. Maybe I should take that filled boot. You won't need it anyway..."

While pondering to himself out loud, he didn't forget to keep slapping the bone of his adversary.

As in line with the script, Ming has visited and collaborated with young master Willow. Their visit tonight naturally coincided with Chu in his disguise. With no need for words, Ming only needed a glance at Chu to read his thoughts. The first few fights ended in mere defeat in the eyes of the audience but he had expended his energy and ability to achieve that desired result.

Only by using his ocular vision ability to slow the sword strikes of his adversaries had he escaped unscathed without major wounds. Without a limited number of activation times placed on his ability like normal Sersens, he maneuvered through the battles. Each time his vision ability ended, Ming conveniently separated and increased the distance from his opponent until the cooldown period ended.

The stance and aura of the now one-footed muscled man did raise his guard. With the additional warning from Chu, he had kept the distance in preparation to react to the man's ability. He was contemplating as to when the man might unleash his Sersen skill until he witnessed the guy raised his sword and take a somewhat familiar stance.

The first time he faced this stance was in the Great Western Forest when the Sersen lackey of young master Wu tried to kill them. Barring that, he had nearly four years of experience training with Mr. Thomas. As a former member of the Military, Mr. Thomas obviously shared his knowledge as to how various Sersens displayed their abilities.

The swift stance of a Sersen empowered with a demon boar nearly had him laughing. Ming chose the simplest counter which would yet hide his own power. By pretending to trip, he used his speed and vision to then neatly slice the rushing foot of the Sersen.

Even under the effect of the rush ability, the foot appeared in slow motion. Ming sighed in recalling his time spent dodging snowballs and blunt arrows. The unpleasant memory instigated him to use more force in tapping the severed leg.

"Ahhh! You bastard... I admit I admit defeat..."

Ming smiled while watching the announcer rush into the ring behind young master Cleft. Ignoring the distraught noble, he walked next to the tall man.

"Hey, you heard him right?"

"Yes, I did, I heard him!"

"This young master Willow also heard him!"

Chu and Young Master Willow shouted out first before the man conceded and then announced the victor.

Pails followed and stood behind them while brooding over his receipts. From the growing whispers of the onlookers, he knew the defeated man was a Sersen. Maybe, not long ago this scene would have shocked him to the core like the surrounding young masters but not today.

Today only gold coins twinkled in his eyes.

Rich...