"It looks like we have a maiden among the contenders this year," Alward spoke, observing Flare's match that is about to commence.
"…Well, looks like this year there are people like you, Elan," he jokes.
"Shut up, meatbag. It's not Elan, it is Elania. We're here to observe on behalf of Owen like we always do each season. It's getting boring," Elania yawns.
"We, you can't complain since the old man is the Underworld King."
"Besides, it's not that boring. I mean, we have a girl down there that's about to fight. You can say it is a warm-up before the main event. Well, the main event I want to see anyway," Alward states.
"…"
Down at the arena, Flare is just staring at her opponent, who's currently belittling her.
"You're quite small, aren't you, little miss? Guess that'll be an easy win for me," her opponent boasts.
"…Huh…that old man. He's not just talking himself up, he is strong," Solaris said to Jojo, as the two of them watched from the audience.
"But Sis Flare isn't weak either," Jojo smiles.
"I admit I do look nice, but I am a Soldier, so I'll take it easy on you, Normal," the opponent continues to boast, revealing his tag.
"I may have been intimidated in the past, but…I'm surprisingly calm now, aren't I?" Flare thought to herself.
"…Compared to Cross, this guy seems like nothing…" she adds.
"I'll show that dual-wielding idiot my growth, remind him to stop belittling me," Flare smirks.
"What are you smirking on about?" the opponent asks, confused.
Flare just stares at him, he doesn't even flinch.
"Guess I'll start with him, and everyone watching this match…"
"Tch…!"
The referee slowly raises his hand after confirming that both sides are ready.
"…Begin!"
Instantly after the referee commenced the match, and before the opponent could lunge forward, Flare suddenly raised her hand and stuck out her index finger, signaling the number one.
"1 minute," she states, taunting her opponent.
"1 minute? Huh! You think you're so bad!" the opponent groans, falling for the taunt.
Immediately, he lunges forward and charges at Flare. She quickly jumps upward, dodging his tackle. The opponent quickly realizes this and turns around. Before he could do anything, Flare immediately kicked him in the face, staggering the man backward. That kick broke the man's nose, and blood began oozing out of it.
"I don't even have to use my circuits to beat him," Flare states in her head.
Enraged, the man dashes towards her and launches a volley of punches. This time, Flare decides to just block all of the attacks his her hands. Every time the man throws a punch, she pushes it away by smacking the wrists.
"…She must be pissed. Her reflexes are fast enough to dodge all of those attacks, but she chose to block all of them to deal more psychological damage. No doubt, she's trying to prove herself in the middle of this coliseum," Weiss says to himself.
"That's fine, Princess. You'll repel most pushover contenders, but no doubt, you'll attract the stronger ones after this."
"How naïve…"
Flare punches the man in the gut, again, staggering him backward. After he got back his balance, the man quickly pulled some kind of metal tube strapped to his back. He smacks it at the ground once, which extends the tube into a long, iron bat. Her opponent is getting desperate, enraged by her taunting.
"Fuck your one minute! I'll splatter your brains so bad that even your mama won't recognize you!" he roars, swinging the pole around.
Flare effortlessly dodges all the swings, toying with the man. After a while, she notices that her plan worked. She managed to take a few glances at the contenders and noticed some of them beginning to respect her or fear her. However, all that glancing left an opening for her opponent. He swings at full force, aiming for her head. Although Flare could see it coming to her, she knew that her movement was not fast enough to dodge or block the attack. However…
"There's that!" she quickly figures out.
Flare quickly raises her left arm, slightly activating her circuit, and blocks the attack with it.
"Got her!" the opponent smirks.
Flare was blasted backward, but she managed to land quickly to prevent herself from falling out of the arena. Slowly, she approaches her opponent, who's smiling for some reason.
"…But that's a surprise. I thought I would be given a quick win after knocking her out of the arena, yet she managed to balance herself before that. But that left arm is useless now…" the man deduces.
However, when Flare stood back up and approached him, she was unscathed by it.
"Hmm…looks like you had to use magic after all, Princess," Weiss murmurs.
"I-I-Impossible…" her opponent stammers.
"That's some brute strength right there, If I hadn't used the wind to soften the impact, my arm would've been broken," Flare mutters to herself.
"Considering her build, I would say she is more of a flexible fighter instead of using brute strength. I know that because we fighters know that brute strength can only be canceled by itself…"
"So, what is she?"
Flare slowly approaches her opponent with a mocking smile.
"That punch…"
"Is that all you have?" she mockingly asks.
Her taunts further infuriate the man, until he finally lashes out with rage.
"Motherf*cker, you're a battle mage, aren't you?!" the opponent roars.
Suddenly, in an instant, Flare's expression changes to a more serious look. She immediately grabs the sword sheathed to the left side of her waist and slashes the bat into two, destroying her opponent's main weapon. Her opponent managed to evade the attack by lunging backward and survived, at the cost of his weapon. The bat was cut into two and clanged onto the arena floor. The sound of clanging metal irritates his ears, but…he can still hear what Flare said to him.
"…That's one minute…" Flare reminds him, pointing the sword at his face.
"Are you done?" she asks again.
Her opponent just cries out in terror and swallows his saliva. Flare pulls her sword back, aiming the bottom of the hilt at the man's face.
"Consider your face…"
"Splattered…"
* * * * *
"Target is moving. Is the girl ready?" a man hiding behind a stall reports as he observes a fully-armored man strolling around the stalls outside the coliseum.
"The plan is foolproof. No need to worry. Just keep your eyes on the target," a voice spoke inside his head.
"Copy that."
The square surrounding the entire coliseum is filled with merchants and vendors selling off their wares, trinkets, and goods to strolling potential buyers. There are lots of food, weapons, armor, clothes, trinkets, and many more on display on each stall and counter. There are a lot of moving pedestrians, browsing each store with coins brimming inside their pockets. Inside the crowd, Boyd is casually observing a stall that is selling some kind of cooked porridge. He has been observing it for quite some time with his hands crossed to each other. He is rubbing the bottom part of his helmet which covers his jaw, indicating that he is concentrating and deciding whether or not to buy the porridge. The sweet sour smell, combined with a sharp stinging spice pierced through his helmet and caught his attention.
"Hmm…Mmm…"
"Mmm…Mmm…"
"Come, come, sir! Have a taste of our spicy and sour noodles!" the hawker tries to persuade Boyd to buy his red-colored soup.
It seems he noticed that Boyd has been watching for quite some time.
"Ah…Oh…!"
"Yes, I'll take one," Boyd orders, and instantly, a bowl of the red soup is ready.
"Please, sit," the waitress offers Boyd an empty table for him to eat.
The fully-armored man quickly sat, and immediately took a spoonful of the soup. He opens enough space from the bottom of his helmet to slurp the boiling hot, spicy, soup from the bowl. The instant Boyd slurps and swallows the soup from the bowl, a very sharp, stinging sensation overwhelms his mouth as he savors the soup.
"Hot! Delicious!"
"Hot! Delicious!"
"IT'S DELICIOUS!" Boyd screams inside his head, steam coming out from both sides of his ears.
"It's so spicy that my tongue might burn off into cinder, yet there are countless waves of delicious flavors! The combined spices enhance the noodles and the pieces of fish, it's so…amazing!"
"I MUST LEARN HOW TO COOK THIS!" Boyd made his decision and immediately swallowed the entire soup along with its noodles before dashing to the hawker.
…..
"…You want to learn, how to cook my soup?" the old hawker asks.
"Indeed, it has proven as a magnificently light, yet deep flavor, added with spices that just shock my mind into action. It is an amazing dish that I must master before I leave this island," Boyd made his decision.
He even bowed down humbly to show his persistence.
…..
After spending 15 minutes observing the cooking process without even moving an inch, Boyd says goodbye to the old hawker and tells him that he will come back in a few days with a sample of his own making. According to the hawker, the soup is a dish commonly made in the Eastern Islands, located east of Cantor.
"Chili, finely grounded into paste. Garlic and onion can also be added for extra flavor and smell. Tamarind juice. Water."
"Vegetables that can be added are cauliflower, okra, carrot, tomatoes, and Coriander herbs, preferably from the Western regions of Manator, for minty freshness."
"Seafood, preferably mackerel, but chicken and beef can also be used."
"Salt. Turmeric powder. Curry powder."
"…Sauté the paste, pour juice, put herbs, and after that the meat. Sprinkle some salt, on both powders, and let them boil. Then, put the vegetables needed," Boyd recalls every ingredient and step he saw when observing the hawker.
Boyd is now in the middle of a large crowd. Pedestrians pushing and shoving each other to force their way through, and Boyd is standing in the middle. People kept pushing everywhere, Boyd didn't even bother to look forward.
"Still couldn't they pick a better name than Asam Pedas? What language is that any-" Boyd thought to himself, before suddenly, he felt something plunging through the exposed part of his armor, at his waist.
His waist is surrounded by a brown leather belt, attached to holsters and satchels, meant to cover the weak part of his armor. Nevertheless, before he realized it, a dagger had plunged through one of his satchels, and red liquid began oozing out of it. Boyd was shocked by it, slowly turning to face his assassin. When he does, there is a dirty, pink-haired, blindfolded little girl, with a ragged dress behind him, staring at him with vengeful, blue eyes.
"Captain of Hunter Squad 2nd Division…Brian Everett…" the girl states.
Although Boyd knows that is not his current name, he remains silent, still in shock.
"I have avenged my father's death," she adds, still glaring at him.
Unable to even bring himself to ask who the girl was, somehow in his eyes, some part of him knows he deserves it. He knew that one day his old sins would come back to haunt him. It was selfish for him to think that he could enjoy life at any time, learning how to make Asam Pedas. He had a mocking smile on his face as he kneeled towards the ground. The pedestrians walk around him as if they are aware that these things happen often here, and then…
Boyd quickly pulls the dagger out of his satchel and smacks the girl's head with the dagger's hilt. As if that was not enough, he flicks the little girl's forehead three times before again smacking her with the hilt again, knocking her out. Again, the pedestrians just walk around them, as if it were normal. Boyd placed the dagger into one of his holsters.
"Now, look what you've done," Boyd hisses, detaching the satchel that was stabbed.
It turns out that the red liquid was just chili paste, and for some reason, the paste is in a more liquid state instead of being…a paste.
"I've grounded all that chili just to get that. Now, how are you going to repay it?" Boyd asks the knocked-out little girl, before carrying her away.
…..
"So, basically, that is what happened to me back at the market," Boyd finished explaining himself to Flare and Weiss, as to why there was a little girl tied to a chair inside his quarters.
"…"
Flare just looks at Weiss, and Weiss does the same. Both of them have the same puzzled look on their face.
"Let me get this straight. While we were fighting, you were learning how to cook this soup from a hawker, before suddenly getting stabbed. However, she missed and you smacked her until she was knocked out and brought her here?" Flare simplifies his story.
The little girl is just sitting there silently, with a few bruises on her forehead.
"Hmm…Mmm…"
"There you have it. I was planning to send her off in an orphanage somewhere instead of selling her here, though that would cover our expense that someone misused," Boyd teases Weiss.
"You make it sound like you are a slaver," Flare chuckles.
Boyd remained silent.
"You are?"
"Was."
"Was! Was a slaver, but that was a long time ago," Boyd reiterated.
"…But, old man…you were a part of the Hunter Squad?" Weiss asks.
Again, Boyd chose to remain silent.
"Hunter Squad? THE Hunter Squad?" Flare jumps in, trying to pry it out of Boyd.
"Hunter Squads were created to apprehend, interrogate, and assassinate high-value targets back during the Demon War, the war between us and the demons. YOU were there?" Flare pushes the agenda forward.
"You know about them?" Weiss asked Flare.
"…How did you not know about this?" Flare asks Weiss, ignoring his question.
"Hey, don't blame me!"
"Weiss has nothing to do with it. I sent him over to a friend in Atlis for training during that time, so leave him out of it," Boyd quickly stops their bickering.
"…At the height of the war, King Edwen formed the Hunter Squad, with King Ragnar as the captain of the group. From what I know, the squad was divided into 3 divisions, but the records back at home were heavily redacted. Even I cannot see them," Flare explains to Weiss.
"Hunter Squad, hmph! They're pretty much like pig-headed murderers. You go off killing innocent people along with the Demons. What makes you better than them?" the girl mocks Boyd and his squad.
"…It's Marcia, right? Did your father allied with the Demons?" Weiss asks in a surprisingly gentle tone.
Marcia looks down in disbelief, along with sadness on her face.
"Are you implying that I am mistaken?" Marci sniffs, her eyes turn wetter.
"…My father was an ordinary, innocent citizen during the war," she responds.
"This man and his squad, at that time, work to protect ordinary citizens from the Demons. I find it hard to believe that-," Flare tries to defend Boyd, who is staying silent from the beginning.
"He was caught in a crossfire," Marcia states, getting their attention, including Boyd's.
"The Hunter Squad 2nd Division and the Demons were engaged in a chaotic brawl during an ambush set up by them. My father was caught in the melee and was cut down by this man!" Marcia points at Boyd with her shaking hands.
Boyd is still silent.
"So she says, Uncle Boyd," Weiss spoke, looking at Boyd.
"…"
"I don't know anything about that," Boyd states without even bumbling.
"DON'T PLAY DUMB! Don't tell me that you've forgotten about MY FATHER, Aurelio Marcia!" Marcia shouts at his face
"I don't have the time nor the crayons to try and remember the face of every person I've killed, I would be wasting my time mourning in a graveyard," Boyd answers.
"…Boyd!" Flare gasps.
"If I let myself worry about petty things like that, my head will roll down in a matter of seconds," he adds, not even apologizing or trying to bother to explain himself.
"A moment of hesitation can cost you your life on the battlefield. Whoever dispatches the person in front of him the quickest will survive the encounter. It's more or less impossible to distinguish commoners against foes on that field. After all, demons are more or less look like us humans, the only way to distinguish them is when they show their teeth."
"A Demon's physique looks way bigger than an average human…" Flare tries to debunk him.
At that time, she begins to hesitate about her decision to follow him.
"So, you don't remember anything, and you don't plan on denying it?" Weiss asks.
Flare is puzzled as to why Weiss is acting more rationally than usual when he has heard everything that she is hearing.
"All I have to say is, whether or not I did it, is that it is her old man's fault…" Boyd responds.
Marcia just looks at him, tears flowing down her cheeks.
"…for dawdling around the battlefield in the first place," he finishes.
Despite getting tied up, Marcia managed to find the strength to stand up with both her legs tied, and lunges at Boyd, more enraged than ever.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
"YOU DID IT! YOU KILLED MY FATHER! I'LL KILL YOU! I SWEAR I'll KILL YOU!" she screams at him.
Without paying attention to the little girl, Boyd just upped and prepared to leave the room.
"I'll remind you this once, and only this once, little girl…"
In an instant, he just throws the dagger that Marcia used to tab him back at the market, at her. The dagger missed, but it pierced and stuck at the wall, just a few millimeters from Marcia's left ear.
"The next time you face me unprepared, I'll slaughter you and send you decades earlier to your beloved daddy," Boyd grins, threatening the little girl.
Flare noticed his twitching fingers, indicating that he was not joking around. Still, for some reason, a jumble of mixed emotions are raging inside her head. After everything, everything that they've been through together, teaching her how to cook, encouraging her to become stronger…to see this in front of her eyes. She couldn't understand anything in her head, but one thing was clear.
"Wait…!" Flare spoke up, grabbing Boyd's shoulder from behind once he tried to leave the quarters.
Boyd turns his head slightly, looking at Flare. Her eyes are watery while at the same time angry for some reason.
"One second ago, you defended like I am like a messiah, and now, you're looking at me like you're looking at King Ragnar," Boyd spoke.
"I hope you two will live very happily together," Flare scoffs.
"…I'm sorry, what?"
"There are lives at stake here, Boyd. Actual, HUMAN, lives! Just so I know, do you care about them at all?" Flare asks.
"Will caring about them help save them?" Boyd responds.
"…N-No…"
"Then I won't be bothered by such trivialities."
"And you find that easy, don't you?" Flare persistently kept asking him questions while at the same time trying her best to hold back her tears.
"Yes, it is. Is that even news to you?" Boyd responds apathetically.
Flare just sighs, for some reason, she feels disappointed and deceived.
"…T-t-that's good deduction," Flare forced a smile.
The room turns silent for a few seconds.
"I've disappointed you," Boyd deduces, looking at Flare.
"That's good…that's good deduction," Flare sniffs.
"If you can't handle it, you can leave at any time. I believe you have been made aware, Your Highness. It's always that simple," Boyd reminds Flare, before pushing her hand away and trying to leave.
…..
"Wait…" Flare hisses.
"…"
"Wait."
"…"
Boyd just walks out without listening to her.
"I said wait! Are you deaf?!" she shouts, surprising Weiss and Marcia.
She quickly tries to draw her sword, but before she can even draw it out, Boyd quickly grabs her head with just his right hand and bashes her to the wooden wall. The blindfolded Marcia tries to help Flare, while Weiss just stands there, doing nothing, while watching Marcia trip and fall to the floor.
"H-H-How…" Flare bawls.
Boyd looks at her.
"How can the two uncles that I hope to help me through this betray me like this?" she bawls, tears flowing out of her eyes.
Boyd pressed his fingers harder on Flare's head and took a step forward.
"Look at me-," Boyd utters.
"Is this how an uncle should look like?" he questioned.
"…I don't how you look like, Uncle Boyd," Flare sobs, slightly disappointed by Boyd's stone-clod heartless disposition towards Marcia.
"…Do not turn people into heroes, Princess Flare. Heroes do not exist, and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them," Boyd reminds Flare, before releasing his grip.
Flare just slides down and rests herself on the wall, still crying. Her face is looking at Boyd, filled with sorrow as if all of her is crushed.
"Sorry, but I am not interested in sitting around with a bunch of emotionless saps, wailing for someone's death."
"Weiss, bring Flare to the coliseum, Her next match will be commenced soon," Boyd instructs Weiss.
"Understood," Weiss nods.
"…And her?"
Boyd pulls out a pouch filled with coins and tosses it to Weiss.
"Give her this, and get her to the earliest ship out. I'd rather cut someone down when they are ready and prepared, not when they are wallowing in these trifling emotional kids," he adds before leaving.
* * * * *
"All right, folks. That's it for today. The results have already been tallied and the roster match will be posted around the island tomorrow morning. We hope to see you tomorrow," the announcer announces at the end of the day.
"It's not even a challenge. All it took was one strike," Jojo sighs in disappointment.
"I didn't even have to burn anyone," Solaris boasts.
"My enemies could not see me move," Jojo responds.
"All it took was some legwork," Solaris retorts.
Both of them then butted heads, each boasting about their achievements.
Flare and Weiss had also finished their rounds, but instead of waiting for Weiss, Flare walked away, leaving him behind without even looking back. Weiss just sighs and decides to stroll around the docks. The reverend is already resting in his quarters, while the jester is casually strolling before returning to his cottage, where 4 people are already waiting for him.
"…Oh, the man of the match!" Alward greets Roland right after the jester opens the door inside.
"I thought you'd rather stroll the island," a woman, one of the four people, sighs.
"Pearl, if I didn't come here today, I can never see your abilities again," Roland smiles.
"If one day these two would stop with their tough love talk, I swear I'd donate both my testicles to another Sylph," Alward sighs.
"No, no, don't do that. We don't want more of your walking in this world. I mean, one of you is enough," a man laughs, hitting Alward's back multiple times.
Alward quickly rolls away from the slap.
"Not you. Your slap hurts, Treyton!" Alward states.
"Where's the Admiral?" Roland smirks.
"He's having a meeting with Owen," Elania pops her head out from the kitchen door.
The sound of oil crackling coming from the kitchen was enough to make everyone smile.
"…Oh ho ho, finally we get to eat something that Elan made! It's been so long…" Treyton pats his stomach.
"Everyone except you! The last job is messed up and we have to pay reparations to cover your mistakes. Take this as punishment!" Elania groans, hitting his head with a ladle.
"B-b-b-but…"
"Don't "but, but" me!" Elania hits him again with a ladle.
"That hurt, bitch!"
"Who are you calling a bitch? This is what I get for cooking and letting you yap around," Elania groans, her devilish eyes looking at him as if he were meat.
"E-e-e…okay…" Treyton mumbles, drawing circles on the floor.
"…Weakling. His big talk is cheap as always," Alward scoffs, looking away.
Immediately when he said that the room turned silent before both of them suddenly brawled against each other.
"And so it begins…" Angel sighs.
"Leave them be. They're just playing around again," Roland smirks, sitting on a chair while waiting for Elania's cooking.
"Where's the Big Boss?" Roland asks.
"He's back in Atlis. Something about a church at the center of the island," Elania shares.
"…Sylvia is also back home, no doubt hitting the books to review our flow of income. How she can handle that numerical haywire is beyond me," Angel answers.
While the others remain civilized, Treyton and Alward kept on brawling, while effortlessly avoiding hitting any furniture.
"How's your job?" Treyton asks, launching an uppercut.
Alward dodges the uppercut and launches a right hook.
"Dull. Damn, slavers couldn't even manage to kidnap one old man in an armor. It looks like I'll have to get down there, so you'll observe the fights with Elania tomorrow," Alward chuckles.
"B-b-b-but…"
"Oh man, stop stuttering. You are 40-year-old man!" Alward teases him, further lengthening the brawl.
"How did you get those slavers to listen to you anyway?"
"Well, a little persuasion, intimidation, several snapped necks and missing hearts did the trick."