CHAPTER 54: SOLVING THE PROBLEM WITH A FLICK OF HIS HAND

The whole of the Slevian sect stirred.

If the arrival of the unexpected caravan was enough to get everyone’s curiosity, then the prospect of the duel guaranteed everyone’s undivided attention.

"Where shall we stand?" the mercenary asked, his thumbs tucked underneath the belt that held one part of his armor together. His entire self was radiating confidence if not outright nonchalance.

"Normally, we go for private settings when it comes to duels, but..." Theo turned his head and looked at the huge crowd that watched every last detail of the exchange. "Right now, I don’t think we can afford to turn everyone away, could we?"

There was something in Theo’s voice and the way he carried himself that forced a similar change in the hired sword.

Rather than upholding a confident, confrontational attitude like the man he just challenged, Theo was out there worrying about the mundane problems that someone living the life of a mercenary could perfectly understand.

A spar was just a folly. Any attempt at denying the crowd the ability to watch it, though, could easily lead to a human stampede.

Regardless of how rational every member of the crowd could be, once Theo attempted to hide this "friendly duel"...?

Someone would try to eavesdrop where it would be held instead. Someone else would try to follow them. Another cultivator would try to spy on them from afar.

And after applying this kind of behavior to everyone in the crowd, it turned into a disaster in the making!

"In that case, how about here?" the mercenary suggested while pointing his hand at his own feet.

And one couldn’t deny the man’s reasons for such an obvious pick.

They were already there, saving everyone the time. The crowd was already gathered up and keeping its distance, saving them the effort of organizing it later at a different location.

But there was one massive con to this plan that Theo simply couldn’t ignore.

"We are too close to the boxes," he shook his head while pointing at the spot where the small coffers full of salt and sugar were. "After all that I went through to get those, I would go feral if they were to be destroyed and their contents scattered over just some ’friendly’ duel."

The mercenary twitched.

He raised his head and gave Theo a closer look, only for his face to then darken a little bit.

It appeared that it was only now that he realized that the one who paid not only for all the produce his group transported but also fronted their fat fees was no one else but the man next to the guy he just challenged!

"Ah, that would be problematic indeed..." he muttered, his voice visibly shaken and weaker than before.

Yet, before Theo could come up with any sort of suggestions over the friendly spar, a loud, authoritative voice appeared, causing the entire crowd to grow still.

"What in all heavens is going on here?"

The crowd parted, revealing Narmidor in his official robes slowly storming down the path.

Just the sight of it was both hilarious and terrifying at the same time, for the sect patriarch to be storming down the road... while moving at a perfectly relaxed pace.

Still, it achieved the desired effect.

The crowd calmed down as it parted to make way for the sect patriarch, the workers made sure to work even faster than they did before and the caravan guard mercenaries... They’d all straightened out, making themselves look more proper even if they already had all the marks of combat veterans.

"I will ask again," Narmidor only raised his voice again as he reached the very center of the whole mess, "what’s going on here?"

Despite his grand entrance that screamed how someone was going to get his ass kicked... Narmidor’s whole demeanor changed the moment he spotted Theo.

And it was only by noticing the difference in his wording that one could take notice of this difference.

"The produce for the feast is here, patriarch," Theo clasped his hands together as he turned to the big boss of the sect before bending his back in a polite, respectful bow. "And to redirect the boredom and exhaustion of both the sect members and the mercenaries who put their lives on the line to transport the cargo we needed post-haste, I’ve deemed it fitting to organize a small, friendly duel."

Narmidor looked at Theo and remained silent for an uncannily long moment.

"A friendly spar you say?" he spoke while squinting his eyes a bit only to then roll them as his posture relaxed. "Then what are those two waiting for?" he asked as his eyes turned over to Kato and the sellsword that challenged him.

"We are waiting to be given proper space to fight," the mercenary hurriedly replied, cupping his own hands and giving the sect’s patriarch a polite bow.

Even though there was no connection between the two of them at all, heck, even though the patriarch of this sect appeared to be only marginally stronger than the mercenary himself... he was still the head of a noble household, the head of a cultivator’s sect!

And while bigger nobles were likely to look down on Narmidor and what was effectively not a clan but a mercenary company, this mercenary in particular appeared to feel some sort of professional sympathy towards the man, making him all the more eager to pay his proper respect.

"What’s wrong with doing it here?" Narmidor asked, taking a quick sweep of the situation around and then crossing his arms over his chest, as if he judged the response to be merely an excuse.

"All of the boxes are still here," Theo hurriedly replied, repeating the very same point he made before. "And I wouldn’t like for the produce I’ve paid for with the sect’s money to be scattered on the winds with the first unfortunate strike."

Once again, Narmidor stared at Theo for a second in silence, before shaking his head and breathing a sigh.

"If that’s the case..."

The sect patriarch’s spiritual energy swelled out, making his aura grow thicker while his entire presence grew more and more intense.

Then, with as little as a flick of his wrist, he suddenly brought all of the boxes up into the air—ignoring the fact that the sect mortal workers had to take their sweet time just to move them there from the caravan carriages. Next, with a gentle sway of his hand, he... ’shooed’ the boxes away, making them fly towards the sect’s interior and effectively clearing the area from the only obstacle that stopped it from serving its other potential purpose.

"Now then, any further objections?" Narmidor asked, looking around as if in search of anyone who would dare to oppose him.

And as anyone would expect, neither the members of the crowd—all of whom were his retainers—nor the other mercenaries from the caravan dared to speak up.

Not even Theo bothered to rain down on the man’s parade, simply because there was absolutely no reason for him to do so.

"Great," Narmidor summed up the entire scenario with just this single word before turning back to the two potential fighters. "I believe getting to know a fresh fighting style we didn’t encounter before can only bring a great benefit to our stale martial arts," he stated while throwing a knowing, meaningful glance over his shoulder, to everyone watching. "And with that said," he then quickly turned his eyes back to Kato and the mercenary, "are you guys ready?"