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Chapter 7: A casual duel

  “Good form,” I said, joking with Somani after he had cleaved the dummy.

  “Oh, Yomon.” Somani glanced my way before heading towards the dummy. The floating shield followed him, and as he got closer to the thing, a ball of silver liquid flew at him, entering his sack. The shield dissolved into a stream that entered the sack, too.

  “Here for a late spar?” Somani asked as he tightened the noose around the sack’s opening.

  “Well, I think you’d need to train more before you could face me,” I answered jokingly, walking towards the man.

  “Ha!” Soamni barked, facing me with a relaxed smile and a hand on his hip. “Well, with your current condition, I just might be worthy. So, up for a spar?”

  I extended my hand to the man, forgoing the salute in this casual setting. The man shook it with crushing strength, but I held only with a small wince.

  “Maybe later. I actually wanted to ask about who had saved my ass during the assassination. Are they our guards?”

  Somani stroked his chin, the motion creating a certain sound as his finger moved across his stubble.

  That’s weird. Isn’t he usually clean-shaven?

  Taking a closer look, he looked tired—dark spots under his eyes, his back hunched a bit, and the usual light in his eyes was off.

  “So that’s what you wanted… No, they aren’t from the team. But I won’t be saying anything further until we duel!”

  Well, that didn’t change about him at least.

  “Sure, but you look a bit tired. Have you been on a mission or something?”

  A look of panic crossed Somani’s features, but he quickly changed it, returning to his more cheerful expression.

  “Me? No, no. It’s… Ah, it’s just the training. Yeah, training, that’s all.”

  That’s a lie if I’ve ever seen one.

  “Brother, if you can’t share, just say it. Don’t lie, that’s un-Khahandarian.” My conscience told me about the hypocrisy in my words, but I shrugged it off.

  “Ah… Yeah, you caught me. Anyways, let’s fight!” Somani loosened the tie around his sack’s mouth as he jumped back.

  I quickly drew my sword and rushed the man, fully knowing that if a Bracelet user managed to create distance, I’d be screwed.

  Somani was a small man, even by the Baras standard. We both knew that in a frontal confrontation, he was likely to lose, so he continued to create distance as liquid metal gushed from his sack, unlike how it had gently flowed in his earlier training.

  Although my legs were longer and my strides bigger, I couldn’t shorten the distance between us, being out of shape, unlike Soamni who was back peddling with unbelievable speed.

  Slowly, the metal formed a huge hammer and an arrow. The arrow shot at me with lightning speed; thankfully, I had anticipated its trajectory and managed to duck under it.

  Without thinking, I jumped to the side. The hammer hit the ground where I had been standing a moment ago, shooting sand into the air.

  I quickly rose to my feet, only dazed a bit from the impact.

  “Whoa! You’ve got better! How about we ramp up the difficulty, shall we?” Somani taunted.

  I ignored him, continuing the chase with my full attention directed towards the thin sheet that was quickly forming.

  After a few seconds, the sheet colour darkened, signifying its hardening into a huge wall that obscured Somani.

  It was then that I heard the whistle of air behind me. I twirled around—intending to deflect the attack with my sword—only to be surprised by the projectile's size. At the last second, I dodged, hitting the terrace’s railing as I lost footing and stumbled.

  The object continued its flight past me, splashing against the hardened metal wall and creating a loud Bang!

  “Fww, that was close.” I swiped the sweat from my forehead as I stood up, looking for Somani.

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  “Yeah, that would’ve hurt.” A voice sounded behind me from the terrace. I tried to turn around, but it was too late. The man kicked my legs, sending me sprawling to the ground.

  I tried to put my sword between the attacker and me, but he easily evaded my guard, putting a dagger to my neck.

  I dropped my sword and raised my arms in surrender. “I give up!”

  Somani smiled as he sheathed his dagger. He offered me his hand, and I took it, standing up and dusting my clothes.

  “How did you control the metal from that far away. You know what, how did you sneak behind me in the first place?” I asked, genuinely wanting to know.

  Somani pointed at his brain. “Easy, a distraction that was a distraction for a distraction.”

  I just looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but he said nothing. “What does that even mean?”

  “It means you’re still lacking, hotheaded, and not using your brain. Fighting isn’t about brute force; it’s about strategy. From the hints you drop, to your movement, and everything else.”

  I rolled my eyes at that.

  A mid-rank-one warrior against me? Yeah, I’m the one using brute force.

  Somani ignored my reaction as he explained. “I slowly formed the projectiles, letting you think that they’re solidified, and as you know, unsolidified liquid can be controlled from a greater distance. After that, I created a thin wall that reached all the way towards the railings, obscuring myself. And as I ran on the terrace, you were distracted by the attack behind you.”

  I couldn’t help but be amazed. The man could’ve crushed me from the beginning with brute force, but instead, he had fooled me through simple tricks.

  He hadn’t even used his Purpose skills.

  And to add salt to the injury, Somani wasn’t done speaking. “I only used a tenth of my Flow, too. So what do you think? Simple, right?”

  “Not bad. When I get my Bracelet, I’ll be way better; you wait and see. Anyways, who are the guards that saved me?” I changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on my embarrassing loss.

  “About that, I think they’re regular guardsmen under Clan Kinana.”

  Clan Kinana, huh? So they’re under the old geezer Sambousa. Then there should be no problem.

  ***

  Baras usually only had two meals, an old philosophy that had something to do with past famines. Anyways, it had been a long day, and I didn’t want to have dinner at a table with my father, so I decided to spend the rest of the evening out.

  He’s going to nag me about it later. Future problems for future Yomon.

  The streets were less busy than during the day, all women having retreated home. In the Baras culture, it was frowned upon for women to go out at night. Instead, men had to supply them with anything they needed.

  I walked with a slow gait, taking in the perfectly paved and lantern-lit streets on the shoreside of the oasis. I decided against heading to my usual spot; instead, I circled the oasis, intending to visit the wealthier area. I wanted to see where they were building the guild and eat at the most fancy place in the tribe on the way.

  Around me, groups of men held hands, expressing their closeness as they walked or sat at the oasis shore. This scene could only be seen at night, as daytime was considered sacred for work, while nighttime was for friends, family, and having fun.

  The walk was beautiful, but I couldn’t enjoy it, as in my loneliness, my mind started to wander. I thought about the Hanshin threat, the traitorous insiders, and me—my future. I was still in a bit of turmoil from the accident last week, undecided about anything. My heart wanted me to go out and discover the world, while my brain admonished that, accusing me of being traitorous and ungrateful.

  How can one like me, who has everything the usual man desires, still be… unhappy?

  I thought about it more, trying to remember a time when I was truly happy, not just pretending to be. A single word popped into my mind, a precious one.

  Mom.

  When she had died, I was devastated. But mostly, I was lost. She had been my guide, the light in the darkness that I looked upon for everything. Even after her death, I still tried to follow in her steps, but it was hard, and it felt like I was slipping away into something she would’ve not liked—a character that Father would certainly love.

  If she were here, what would she say? Probably stop skipping school.

  I laughed at my silly joke, a pure laugh that came out of nowhere.

  I’m crazy, ain’t I?

  Picking up a random stone, I threw it at the moon’s reflection in the oasis, breaking the stillness of the water as the stone skidded a few times before sinking.

  It was then that a chill breeze hit me, making me shiver in a good way. I looked at the horizon, hidden behind the bundled houses, was a vast world—one with tens of human kingdoms and myriad races that called Htrea their home. My heart and mind seemed to settle a bit, and at that moment, I made a decision.

  I should decide my future before the tournament.

  ***

  The guild building skeleton seemed done. It looked out of place with its intricate woodwork, next to the plain houses of the Baras. The mainlanders clearly liked appearances.

  The building was a mix of pale palm wood and the local red stone, with the wood forming columns and flooring that jutted out at every level—the building was three floors. Stone went between the wood, but what mostly differentiated it from its surroundings were the windows. The Barases didn’t use those for privacy, but here, not only did they have them, but they were huge. Although the glass panels were still missing.

  What weird people. I can see the insides from here. Also, won’t they make problems with the neighbours?

  Baras didn’t build high, not because they couldn’t, but for privacy. A higher building meant one could see the courtyards and all the women inside.

  A man with yellow hair and blue eyes was sitting next to the non-existent door of the building. He had plate armour that would be impossible to wear a month from now, and was giving me a hard stare.

  No sack, huh? So nothing important inside yet.

  I waved at the man, who grunted in return, clearly disliking something I was doing, but I couldn’t figure out what.

  …culture, probably?

  I continued on my way, reaching the Abundant Water a short distance later. Unlike the usual business in the tribe, the place had a guard outside, as with every business owned by clan Humus and their patron, Elder Rumman.

  Although Elder Rumman could be said to be the elder who had shed the skin of the Baras culture the most, I still didn’t like him. He was a pompous fool who believed he was better than everyone because of a degree he got from the mainland. Another reason to hate him was that when he spoke, two out of five words he uttered would be from the Latana language.

  It’s not even that hard a language to learn, although… my marks in it weren’t the best, to be honest.

  The guard didn’t salute me when I got close, but he didn’t oppose my entrance either.

  Hmph! If it weren’t for your delicious food, you wouldn’t have seen my face, bastard.

  As I walked the long corridor, then turned the corner—a mechanism built by the Baras to protect the sanctity of their houses, I was assulted by… the quiteness of the place?

  To be fair, it had been a year since I last visited here, but for the place to change this much, that was quite surprising. The architecture hadn’t changed, but the people had. They were still Baras, don’t get me wrong, but they were wearing different outfits than usual. With men wearing pants, jackets, and ties around their necks.

  Why are they choking themselves?

  The women, on the other hand, had long robes and were wearing weird looking hats. But what shocked me the most was that they had forgone the sandals for… Boots?!

  Argh! Their feet must smell!

  As I stood at the entrance, dazed by the spectacle, a man wearing spectacles, short hair that was divided in the middle, and an aquiline nose approached me.

  “How did that stupid guard let this Nawari in?” I heard the man mumble as he approached me.

  Nawari?

  I clenched my hands at my sides, my anger rising quickly. In the Baras culture, there were three taboos when it came to cursing. Cursing God, one’s sister and mother, and lastly, calling a person Nawari.

  Even though I usually was chill with being cursed, even for me, this man had crossed a red line. Nawaris were nomadic Baras who couldn’t trace their lineage to Bara himself—essentially being without an identity.

  Lineage was important in Bara’s culture, and a man with a lineage of brave, good, or righteous people could be elevated to heights that were unimaginable.

  My family had been chosen as the chieftains of the clan because of our close lineage with Bara, with us only having 31 descendants between the great man and us.

  “Sir, I would like to ask you to leave. The dress code had been mentioned in the invitation card—”

  Before the man could finish, I slapped him; the sound reverberated loudly.

  “You dare?!”

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