"Let us be done with it, then,"
the captain who had now been declared as Tyrion's champion pushed his way into the makeshift arena in the center of the crowd. All eyes were on me.
"It is not necessary...you still can refuse the challenge," Benjen said, eyeing me warily.
I knew what he was thinking.
Of course, just like anyone here, he thought I was just a drunk man who had been caught in a brawl because of a woman.
Tapping into Benjen's thoughts, that was exactly about it. I had, for a while, thought he knew I was joining the Watch after all because of the garments I had commissioned at the cloth house, The women there might have guessed as much, and knowing women and rumors, it would not be far-fetched to imagine that the news was already halfway through the entire town of Last Hearth.
"And leave that kind of a prize...fucking no!"
My statement was drowned by the cheers that erupted when the crowd heard my decision.
'Nothing hypes people more than a good fight,' I thought to myself, and I was not going to be a cunt—I would give them one.
'Cover story be damned!' I thought to myself.
With my thoughts and cunning, I would easily come up with something, probably a street fighter or a sellsword who was just tired of the boring lifestyle and decided to find some meaning in life, even though God knows, the Watch is the last place you can find that.
The tavern was a good place since the light from outside would not reach me.
It was not particularly the thrill of a fight, as is normally the case with men, that led me into accepting Tyrion's challenge.
I mean, what exactly could the poor soldier do?
Just looking at him, I could not help but think of close to a thousand ways I could beat him in less than five seconds.
He was just too ill-matched here, so no, there was no thrill I was getting from thrashing an opponent of a lesser level.
I was only doing this because it was a stone that had been thrown my way with which I could kill my two problems at the moment. One, I could eventually settle my due at the tavern, and second, I could after this, get acquainted with Benjen and his group that was headed to the Wall.
I was conscious of the woman's soft palms on mine... Letting go of her hand, I slowly but with deep regret took off my tunic and handed it to the her.
There was an off chance that it could be torn in the duel, and seeing as it was all I had at the moment, I could not afford to risk it. She took it with a pout on her pretty lips. I suddenly felt my hunger latch.
'Hold on, she will be all yours in a while,' I silently appeased the roaring beast.
A sound of breathtaking surprise was picked up by the crowd, mostly women, and I could plainly see why.
I wanted to stare at it too since it was a spectacle I was seeing for the first time.
Having taken off the tunic, I found that I had nothing else underneath. I looked at my naked upper body as if I were seeing it for the first time, which I was.
In few words, this version of Dracula did not joke with his physique, which was weird. See, as far as I knew, in Bram Stoker's Dracula, the guy was just tall, lean, with a menacing look to cap it off. In short, boring. But looking at myself, aside from those memories and abilities of a vampire, my body was nothing of the sort.
My belly muscles felt well-hardened like a man who was no stranger to hard physical exercise.
I simply looked like an average bodybuilder in the modern world,but around here...that was something else.
Slowly, I paced around the makeshift arena, staring at my opponent.
I noted that the soldier suddenly did not look so certain of himself, like when he had first pushed his way to the center.
His eyes kept running warily over my body as if hoping he could back out... Too bad for him, though, it wasn't possible as a drunk chose that time to hype his man.
"Here, here, brave soldier... Show the bastard what a captain of House Umber is made of... Put this bastard in his place," Tyrion yelled to more applause.
'That devious motherfucker.'
Drunk or not, Tyrion knew what he was doing, alright.
He had noticed the soldier's hesitant body language and suddenly he had finally sobered up to the reality that he had gambled on a fight. And as gambling often goes, the same hand that wins could be the same that loses.
For the dwarf, however, by bringing in the honor of his champions house, which the man served as a captain, he had made sure the man would now give all he had, even if that meant bravely taking a beating to defend it.
"Well, it appears a duel is agreed upon," Benjen said as he shook the pouch of coins right at the dwarf.
"...Men, draw your weapons," the tall ranger said.
The soldier did not hesitate, and I watched the gleaming steel sing as it left its scabbard.
The man grabbed it with both his hands as if his life depended on it, his body shifting into a combat stance.
The house had now gone silent as everyone awaited the beginning of the duel. The soldier's eyes, as well as everyone's, were on me as I stood before the armed opponent with nothing but a naked torso.
"Friend... where is your weapon?" Benjen asked, seemingly confused by my lack of care.
The two boys, too, had broken to the front, and Jon was staring with unmasked interest—such adrenaline stuff was after all, quite at home with boys of his age.
"Right in front of you," I said without breaking contact with my opponent.
Benjen hesitated for a while.
It was evident that, in his mind, he thought this was taking a nasty turn. He wasn't ready to start a duel that led to death just for something stupid, and much less in front of his brother's son. But then again, the challenge had been given and the challenge had been received. Thus, it was not his place to step in... This was now well past reasoning.
"Very well," he said in a resigned voice. "May fortune favor the man who fights with honour."
"Fight!"
if i get 50 powerstones i will release chapter 13 and 14 together