It was Lloyd's turn to feel increasingly more anxious. If Alejandro's assertions proved accurate, this was when he'd have to wager something to participate, which was sadly confirmed right away.
"Please state your name, the party sponsoring you and what you'll wager in an orderly fashion. Note that what you say will be written by my aide here, and it constitutes a contract between us, the event organizer, and you, the participant. As for the wager, we also reserve the right to refuse or change it should it be deemed insufficient."
Everything was concise and to the point, but it nonetheless sent his heart racing. His hope was that his remaining gold would be enough or that, in the worst case, the other participants would give him a hint as to what would be. Then one fighter after the other began to follow the instructions, loudly announcing their name as well as their backer. Some caused minor commotions, while others were downright ignored due to their lackluster standing. Unfortunately, his earlier hope was also dashed, as he had absolutely no idea about the value of most of their wagers, which had varied from precious stones to materials and even slaves. And then finally came his adversary, the one who had thrown the gauntlet and had brought him in this mess.
"Thomas Wixton, backed by the Wixtons. For my participation, I wager 100 gold coins."
The tension in the room, which had steadily increased throughout the registration process, suddenly peaked, as the Wixton name invoked fear and awe. Their influence, which had already been lauded by Gregory, seemed even greater than that. For Lloyd, it was quite the sight, and one he had only seen when world leaders entered a room.
This type of stiffness… This type of arrogance… It was like they were untouchable.
But despite everyone seemingly respecting their reputation, Thomas' champion hadn't reacted, barely even acknowledging the fifth heir. Nothing about his air had changed, causing his eeriness to further increase as those around him avoided his gaze, hints of fear on their faces. This made the scientist desperately want to analyze him, but he just couldn't risk it, since he wasn't sure if they had an entity similar to Cyr.
It would be a last and final measure.
"Very well, Thomas. Your wager is accepted."
DeLoris' voice was calm, prompting a tinge of nervousness to fleet through Lloyd. It was time.
While raising in arm in the air, he subsequently shouted.
"Merchant Lloyd, backed by the Wixtons. For my participation, I wager 25 gold coins."
Following this, the room's attention ferociously turned right back to them, the rumor mill in full motion.
"So, they're the ones… What a shame."
"He doesn't seem to be from here. Why would he ever cross one of the three trading families?"
"A pity… His bodyguard seems fairly decent though."
From insults to pity to ridicule, nobody spared them, as they stood in silence while awaiting Michael's verdict. But just as he had predicted, nothing ever went according to plan…
"So, you're the infamous Merchant Lloyd? I heard you caused quite the commotion before coming here."
Michael's face had darkened, making the engineer grit his teeth. What was next surely wasn't good.
"But fret not, since it has no impact on your participation here. You're authorized."
But before Lloyd could even rejoice, a twisted smile appeared on DeLoris' face.
"However! Your wager is insufficient. Do you have anything else?"
This startled him, with everyone present immediately understanding what was happening. Sure, he'd be allowed to participate, but it would be on their terms, or the Emperor's in this instance. Of course, the engineer was well aware of that, and instead of entertaining their game, he decided to cut through it.
"Oh, that's unfortunate… What did you have in mind?"
This dull and pointy remark made his counterpart's smile vanish, a disgusted look instead replacing it. How dared a foreigner ridicule this great Gruzian institution?! Even Alexander wanted to applaud him, as the small man kept growing into someone worthy of following.
This was how vermin needed to be treated.
While having a much colder tone, the chairman answered.
"Well, as you may have seen before, it is possible to wager individuals, and since you don't seem to have anything else at the moment, I think your bodyguard would do the trick."
The suffocating atmosphere became even heavier, as everyone became bewildered. A fighter, being wagered while participating?! This was simply unprecedented.
With murmurs exploding around them, Christopher remained stoic. He knew what it meant, and he knew that he was up against the wall, yet no matter how hard he racked his brain to try and find an alternate solution, there was simply none. The only thing left was to believe in the former King, the mythical character that had forged a legendary name. All in all, it wasn't a bad bet.
After a short sigh and while raising his shoulders, he acquiesced.
"Sure, why not."
His nonchalant response caused the room to fall silent, as if everyone hadn't heard properly. Had he really just agreed to wager his bodyguard?! For merchants, escorts were essential to conduct business, since robbers were omnipresent outside heavily controlled territories. Was his companion this easily replaceable? Even Yelinda, who had so far stayed quiet and in retreat, let out a small gasp. Was he really aware of what he had just done?
Meanwhile, the one who was truly excited about this was Alexander, who erupted in laughter.
"HAHAHAHA THIS IS IT!"
Incredulity followed, with even DeLoris' aide uncertain about whether she could really write said wager. After all, the events unfolding were just surreal. Lloyd then once again looked at Thomas, as rage surged from the deepest part of his being, a feeling he actually hated. Of course, it was quite the paradox when a lot of his achievements had served the military sector, and yet it still rang true.
When confronted by his heavy stare, the short and bald man quickly averted his gaze, as he remembered what had happened earlier.
"Yelinda, get us out of here."
His voice, authoritative and sharp, caused her to quickly act and lead them through the still bewildered crowd, their departure marked by a heavy silence.
What had just happened?
Meanwhile, Michael's expression had slowly morphed into an angry and twitching smile, as he had never been dismissed in such a way.
"You can write it down, and when you're done, please go inform the Wixton Patriarch. This promises to be quite entertaining…"
⁂
When they reached their accommodations, Yelinda couldn't help but stare at the duo, whose expressions looked serious yet relaxed. Despite her young age, she had seen plenty of people get politically embroiled, only to end up executed for their dissident opinions. Yet this unknown merchant had walked into this fully aware of the possible fate awaiting him. It was her first time seeing someone with so little regard for their life.
Meanwhile, Lloyd had decided to inspect the room, finding it quite luxurious for its location. It wasn't too big, had all the essentials and offered a view on the battlefield, where the fighting and bloodshed still raged on. He surmised these were the amuse-bouche leading up to the event, the section to give every important patron a taste of what was sure to come. Even the former King decided to observe to try to learn about their fighting style, only to give up right away since the format was a battle royal. In this type of setting, survival was paramount, meaning that underhanded methods prevailed. He could also tell that their level was quite low, which made sense since they were only a preview. Strangely, Lloyd also noticed that he was unaffected by the fighters constantly dying in front of him, even with limbs and blood flying amidst the inhuman chaos.
He was just… unmoved.
This feeling scared him, but compared to what he had seen at the slave market, he found this scene far tamer. After all, these were men who had signed up, making this far easier to tolerate. The human psyche truly was fascinating…
He then turned around to face Yelinda again, deciding that it was time to ask a few crucial questions.
"Yelinda, was it?"
His sudden interest caught her off guard, causing her shyness to come out.
"Yes."
"I'm sure you're well aware of who we are and how we ended up here, so let's forgo the introductions. Do you know who was accompanying Thomas Wixton?"
The question instantly made Alexander perk up while also making the young woman stiffen.
"Uhm…"
Christopher and the former King could immediately tell that she had been ordered not to reveal anything, creating an awkward and fairly tense atmosphere. Still, they needed something, anything, about who they were up against.
"Listen, we're not asking you to reveal everything. Just his background is sufficient."
The request sounded more than reasonable, and she appreciated their understanding despite their predicament. After a short sigh and quick breath, she decided to give out a few crumbs.
"Very well… He's a member of the Boundless Veil and is one of their best and most expensive mercenaries, often representing big factions. His record, if I recall correctly, is currently 13 wins and 3 losses, and of these wins, he killed his opponent 9 times while crippling the last 4."
She then took a small break to let the duo absorb the information, as she thought that it would scare them. But what she didn't expect, however, was to see a huge grin appear on Alexander's face, with Lloyd even beginning to chuckle.
"So, he has lost before… That's great to hear."
The young woman was once again in disbelief. Had they not just heard that he had basically butchered everyone in his victories?!
When he noticed her shock, Christopher tried to push even further.
"Anything else?"
"Ah? Oh, sorry! Yes, there's also the fact that he can dual wield. That's about it."
This bit, however, made the General's grin fade away. Dual-wielders always proved to be very troublesome opponents, as they were terribly difficult to read and counter. If his aura was also anything to go by, he could already tell that it'd be a battle for the ages.
⁂
The aide hurriedly walked while trying to stay composed, although in vain. After all, this was an extremely rare occasion, and one that she simply couldn't mess up. The Wixton patriarch, or Nicolas Wixton, was a mythical figure within the Gruzian empire since he was one of the few merchants that, at the time, hadn't waited before supporting the Emperor during the nobles' rebellion. Of course, this had initially put him at odds with the nobility who supported the movement, but not for long, as history would have it. As a reward, the family had been granted every permit requested, no questions asked. This, coupled with Nicolas' exceptional business acumen, had allowed them to soar to unprecedented heights while nudging a spot in what had historically been a duopoly between the Hudsons and Torrys.
After ascending a few flights of stairs that were heavily guarded, the aide finally stood before a big and beautifully crafted door.
Once she had heaved a long and calming breath, she decided to delicately knock, knowing full well that she was disturbing them. In response, a low and powerful voice boomed from the other side.
"Enter."
Its commanding tone nearly froze her in place, but she didn't dare wait a moment longer before proceeding inside. As the door swung open, the room's interior came into view, revealing one of the Sanguis' most luxurious suites, its insides of the utmost quality. But to the aide, none of that mattered, since she was now petrified in place from the sight of the two comfortably seated men enjoying the view below. When the one on the right noticed her stupefaction, he broke the awkward situation.
"Oh, I suppose you weren't told. Please pay respects to his Majesty, Emperor Marcus the Fourth."