Eitan adjusted his clothes one more time before exiting the room. The contract should have been written up by now. He went to Beren's office, who handed over a scroll with barely dried ink.
"Does it meet your requirements?" Beren asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
Eitan glanced it over and gave a satisfied nod. "Perfectly," he furled it up and clasped it lightly in his hand. He was about to turn to leave when Beren's voice caused him to halt.
"May I come to observe?"
Eitan turned back around with a mystified expression. "Why would you wish to do such a thing?"
Beren smiled brightly, his eyes curving up. "Is it not only natural to be curious about my master's prowess?" He surprisingly didn't bring up any bullcrap about worrying for Eitan and expressed his intentions honestly.
Eitan tapped the back of the scroll on his shoulder. "Do as you please."
Beren rose to his feet and gave Eitan an exaggerated bow. "My deepest gratitude."
Quite the sycophant. Eitan shook his head to himself. "Let's go. It isn't polite to keep our guests waiting." His lips curled up in anticipation of the upcoming event.
The group left the castle and didn't walk far to where the mercenary group had camped out. Eitan entered the largest tent with his entourage behind him to see the two men from the throne room inside. The fiery captain sat behind a small table, tilting back so half of his chair was off the ground. "The contract?"
Eitan laid out the scroll on the table. "If it's agreeable to you, we can sign it right now."
The man read it over, his face morphing to one of obvious surprise before he got it back under control. He cleared his throat, levelling his gaze at Eitan with a severe expression. "Pretty boy, once we've signed this, there's no going back for you. I won't go easy on you just because you're young."
"I'd expect nothing less," Eitan grinned cockily. "Now, hurry up and put your name down, unless you're chickening out."
The opposing man's facial muscles twitched intensely. "Don't blame me, since you're running headfirst to your own demise." He signed his name swiftly, and Eitan serenely followed in kind.
Eitan put his hands on the table and stood up. "Let's get on with it." He confidently strode out of the tent without allowing the other man to get in another word.
Aengus ran out after him, and Beren followed, not wanting to miss even a moment of this scene. Farrel followed just a pace behind, but was suddenly halted by a tug on his sleeve. He turned his head with a displeased expression to see a familiar face. "What do you want, Winslow?"
"Don't give me that. What the hell is going on, Farrel?" This guy, Winslow, was Farrel's contact and an old friend from the same hometown. "I put in a good word with the Captain because it was you asking, but what's with the situation here? No, scratch that for now. What's with you? A backwater area like this is no place for an aura knight. What about Ormund?" He glanced around. "And where's Freya? I can't imagine you'd leave her alone in such a dangerous environment."
Ferrel's entire body shook, and his fists balled. He lowered his head, trying to control the overflowing rage and sorrow bubbling within him. "... She's dead."
"What?" Winslow blinked blankly. "Oh my gods." The words were processed belatedly, and he covered his mouth. The last time he had spoken to Farrel was after his wife passed away. His daughter had still been a young girl then, and he knew Farrel was immensely protective of her. "I am so sorry, my friend." He desperately wanted to ask what happened, but didn't want to reopen old wounds.
"Spare me your sympathy. I have already torn apart the bastards who dared to touch her." Farrel's chilling voice felt like needles on his skin.
So it was a murder. Winslow realized, and he sighed internally. "Does that have to do with why you're out here?" If he had gone wild in Ormund for revenge, no matter how justified, it was obvious he'd face consequences. Despite his status as an aura knight, he was just a commoner without proper backing in the end.
"You could say that." Farrel calmed as he turned his head in the direction Eitan had gone. "We can speak more later. I must go to my liege." He was feeling antsy due to having left Eitan for so long in such a precarious situation. Even if he could not do anything about the duel, he still must prevent anyone from hindering Eitan's path.
"Liege? I didn't hear about Count Ormund being here. Also, since when did you personally swear allegiance?" Winslow looked at Farrel quizzically.
As Winslow was one of the few whom Farrel genuinely considered a friend, he was barely keeping his patience. "I am no longer a person of those damn Ormunds. I exist solely for my liege, who lords these lands."
This shocked Winslow even more than hearing his daughter had passed. "You— you forsook your oath?" His voice trembled as he knew the implication of Farrel's words. When he was knighted, Farrel had sworn an oath of fealty to the Ormund County. But here he was, clearly having abandoned his previous allegiance. But that wasn't all. Occasionally, a knight would renegade due to extreme circumstances, and they would then become what was known as a wandering knight. They were similar to mercenaries in the way they worked for but never actually served a master. This was because even if they betrayed their lord, the oath remained, so they could not swear loyalty to another.
If what had happened to his daughter had anything to do with the Ormund family, Winslow would not have been surprised to find that Farrel made such a choice. But he had gone a step further. Calling someone else his liege, not just some lord, meant he had directly forsaken his old oath and made a new one. Even though Winslow was a mercenary, he understood the significance of such, which was why he was so shocked. After all, to his knowledge, not to mention the fastidious Farrel, most knights would rather slit their own throat than ever do such a thing.
As Winslow struggled to collect himself, Farrel hurried away without giving him too much more care. He forcefully shoved his way through the crowd to where Eitan and the redhead stood, facing each other. A mercenary was currently tying their left hands together, and unruly shouts could be heard all around them.
"Sir Farrel, you must help me convince the lord to stop this madness!"
Farrel shifted his gaze to see Aengus rapidly approaching him, with Beren tranquilly trailing behind. His eyes narrowed, and he surveyed the distressed knight. "Why should I do such a thing?" He was quite irritable after the resurgence of dreadful memories, so his gaze was like daggers.
"What on earth do you mean?" Aengus halted in front of him with an incredulous expression. "We are the Lord's knights, so of course we must—"
"The only thing we must do is trust and follow him." Farrel cut Aengus off briskly, glancing over at where the duel was about to begin. "Let me proclaim this now." He infused a bit of aura into his voice so it boomed, clearly entering the ears of all those present. "No matter who, if anyone dares interfere with the lord, I shall cut them down without mercy." He stepped forward and planted his sword in the ground, glaring around. "This duel is by his will. If any choose to oppose the terms, know that my blade had no eyes."
The snickering among the mercenaries stopped, and a brief hush fell over the field. This was the presence of a true aura knight, so even this usually arrogant and rash bunch didn't dare take him lightly.
"Well said!" Beren broke the silence with an airy smile unbefitting of the situation. "Now that Sir Farrel has spoken, I am sure this duel shall proceed without any problems. Isn't that right?" He turned toward the mercenary vice-leader who was acting as the officiant of the match.
"Ahem!" The silver-haired man cleared his throat, feeling strangely awkward when faced with Beren's unflappable demeanor. "No mercenary would dare insult the circle, so just watch your own side." He grumbled before turning towards the participants. "Speak any last words now."
Eitan looked appreciatively at Farrel before focusing on the opponent in front of him. "I, Eitan Reidar of Saorise, swear to abide by the convention of the forebearers. May no blood but mine be spilled today."
A look of undiluted surprise bloomed on the scarred man's face. This was the traditional pronouncement of mercenaries who were about to duel in the circle. The circle method itself was popular, so it wasn't terribly astonishing that Eitan knew of it. But this was not well-known even to those within the field, so how did a noble kid like this know such a phrase? But he pushed down his shock and looked at the boy opposite with a fresh expression. "I, Agni Jescon of the Silver Wolf Mercenaries, swear to abide by the convention of my forebears. May no blood but mine be spilled."
Pink and green eyes stared into each other until a loud voice called out, "Begin!"
A dagger immediately came flying towards Eitan's head. He ducked, but the blade's trajectory instantly changed to follow him. He's not bad at all. His lips curled up as his heart began to beat faster. How long had it been since he'd fought in an environment like this? The shouts from the throng around and the hot breath of the enemy brought his blood to a boil.
Eitan lunged, so he was now on the opposite side of Agni, blocking off the dagger's path. His small stature put him at an advantage for such maneuvers. Angi reacted quickly but wasn't quite fast enough to avoid Eitan's own dagger, slicing a bit off his hip.
"Wahhh, pretty boy here got the first blood!"
"Ay, Captain, don't go easy 'cause he's a kid!"
The mercenaries' cries rang out, and Agni wanted to yell at them back, Who's going easy?! But he didn't have the space to. Eitan's dagger danced around him, and he was forced onto the defensive. What the hell is this?! If he wasn't experiencing it himself, he wouldn't believe it. Eitan's dagger skills were far better than many veterans he knew of. Not to mention that, although his larger size theoretically should have given him an advantage in such a confined space, it was being used masterfully against him.
Angi grew increasingly frustrated by this as the seconds ticked by. Every time his dagger went towards Eitan, he'd either dodge by a hair or force Agni to stop by twisting around, so if he continued his strike, he would hit his own body.
"Captain, hurry up! No need to drag things out of pity!
"Go for the throat!"
"Why's he letting the brat slip around like that?"
The shouts of his comrades were not helping at all, either. Every word felt like a prick to his pride. He wasn't letting things go on like this because he wanted to, dammit; the one in front of him just kept slipping around like a loach. Blood was already staining his clothes while Eitan remained relatively unscathed. It can't continue like this! Whether it was to maintain his pride or for his men, he had to turn the situation around as quickly as possible. "Ahh!" A silver aura suddenly glowed around his dagger.
"Aura?!"
"My lord!"
Let's see how you did with this! Agni's dagger shot unhesitatingly towards Eitan's throat. There was a loud clang, and a stunned silence blanketed the area.
Agni stared wide-eyed at the young man in front of him. "You—!?"
A dagger cloaked in a crimson aura had clashed with the silver one. The clang was from the impact, sending Agni's dagger flying, but Eitan's grip had remained firm. Not even the recoil from Duke Logress had managed to shake him off his blade, after all. However, Agni's attack hadn't been entirely futile. A trickle of blood ran down Eitan's neck. He didn't even make a move to wipe it as he stared down Agni with a stoic expression.
Agni met those chilling eyes that reminded him of an amaranth, and after an intense internal tussle, raised his right hand. "I surrender."
These words caused the spectating mercenaries to go into a frenzy.
"I must be hearing things, right?"
"No way the captain just surrendered?"
"But did you see? That kid used aura!"
Eitan stared at Agni with a contemplative expression. The fiery man didn't flinch back, but his gaze became wary. Once one surrendered, there was no way to take it back, but it was up to the other to accept it. Eitan could slice Agni's throat here and now if he so pleased. Without saying a word, Eitan raised the crimson blade in his hand.