Chapter 216
Take a look at Chapter 229 of "Low-Fantasy Occultist": Before anyone could accept the unspoken challenge, the man Nick was pretty sure was the... See what happens next!
Before anyone could accept the unspoken challenge, the man Nick was pretty sure was the Master at Arms stepped forward. âI am Steven Quack, and this is my training yard. Anyone who fights here does so under my watch and respects my authority.âNick could see quite a bit of trepidation in the man. Clearly, he was well aware of the social rank gap between them, but he was firm in his stance.
âThatâs fine, I have no intention of doing anything untoward. Iâm just here to spar a little while I wait for the ball. Iâve been riding around for the past few days, and a little distraction would be great," he replied, meeting the manâs eyes.
He could have stepped into the courtyard and issued a challenge to anyone daring to face him, but that would have been too showy. While he was here to establish himself as someone not to be messed with before the ball, he also wanted to build some rapport with a few of those present.
Enough to be let in on their conversation. And if that didnât work, he at least wanted to be around to listen in.
âThat will be fine,â Steven nodded, calmer now that it was clear Nick wasnât looking for trouble. âWhatâs your specialization?â
âI am a mage, but I was trained to hold my own in a melee fight, so if anyone wants to try me, I can limit myself to body enhancement magic,â Nick replied, looking around to see if anyone was interested.
It had been a while since he last fought without spells, but he felt the need to test himself. While he wanted to show off a bit, using too much magic to overpower everyone would have been unwise.
He wanted them to think he was impressive, not a freak of nature.
Unsurprisingly, more than one person took offense to his words. Apparently, a mage claiming they could fight on the same level as a martial class, and limiting themselves at that, rubbed more than a few overinflated egos the wrong way.
âI will take him!â A young voice shouted before anyone else could step in.
Nickâs eyes landed on a teenage boy who was just a few years older than him. He wasnât especially tall, but he had a lot of muscle, and it was clear from how he carried himself that he was confident.
Steven looked at the young man and sighed, âWalker, youâve been training for years. Lord Crowley here canât have more than a yearâs worth of training, and heâs a mage.â
Walker got a stubborn look, clearly unmoved by the knightâs words. Before the situation could escalate, however, Nick stepped in. âItâs fine. I would like to fight him.â
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Several older warriors reassessed him, with some viewing him more favorably and others less so.
Nick was well aware that, under normal circumstances, his actions could have come across as very arrogant, but he didnât really care. Crooking a finger toward Walker, he smiled challengingly, âCome on, then.â
The boy didnât need to be told twice and stormed toward a ring just a short distance away, where the crowd quickly formed a human barrier.
They wisely stood farther than the bare minimum, especially since fighting with a mage was known to cause collateral damage.
Nick followed his opponent, placing his hand on his dagger, which hissed in excitement. âThis is just practice. Remember, no lethal damage.â
That seemed to dampen the Remnantâs buzz, but it didnât stop completely, still happy to be useful.
Walker drew his sword from its sheath, revealing a finely made blade. âI won Stonecutter at the squireâs tourney last year. Just so you know.â
Nick didnât take the bait, simply taking his position at the other end of the ring and drawing his dagger.
The bone-white handle and the midnight-black blade seemed to surprise some, and even Walker eyed it warily. Clearly, martial classes had an eye for powerful weapons.
Not that Nick intended to use his full strength against the kid. But just the sheer durability it offered would be enough for what he planned to do.
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âAlright, listen up!" Steven thundered, stepping between them. âThis will be a simple spar to first blood. Any attempt to actually hurt your opponent will land you in the gallows, no matter if it costs me my career! I want a clean, fair fight! No active spells, no lethal strikes!â
Only after both had nodded their consent did he step back, positioning himself just outside the ring. âAlright. Then on my three. One, two⌠Three!â
Nick barely had time to bring up his dagger when Walker was upon him. He wouldnât have expected the stocky young man to be that quick, but clearly, he had underestimated him.
Despite the surprise, he easily deflected the first attack, angling his dagger just enough to let the sword slide off. Admittedly, he paused for a moment to bite back the urge to summon a , but his mental stats were enough to grant him that much.
He then proceeded to roundhouse kick his opponent away, forcing him to disengage.
Nick hopped in place, grinning. âCome on, then.â
Walker didnât need to be told twice because he quickly closed the gap again. So fast, in fact, that Nick realized it had to be due to a skill rather than raw stats. And he could work with that.
Sliding a step to the side instead of engaging directly, he let Walker overreach, showing that while he had gotten to a decent level with his skill, he still hadn't mastered it.
Without missing a beat, Walker pivoted, leaving a mark in the ground, and used the momentum to swing his sword down on Nick with a heavy slash.
As a mage, this would have been a perfect chance to slam a few spells into his unprotected chest, but Nick was holding back and was forced to catch the blade with his own again, using to bridge the gap in strength when he felt his arm buckle.
Walker evidently hadnât expected him to be able to do that, and Nick took advantage, slamming his left palm into his opponentâs diaphragm and sending him sprawling on the ground.
Such a hit would have been enough to take out any experienced fighter back on Earth, but Walker merely grunted and got to his feet with a wary look.
He looked at Nick with more respect now, having realized that this wouldnât be an easy fight.
The shouts and jeers of the men around him blended with the pounding of his heart, and Nick realized he was grinning widely.
Melee fights werenât his strong suit, but he could admit he enjoyed the rush.
Not wanting to give the initiative to the other, he pushed off the ground, mimicking a sprinting skill with the use of telekinesis.
His dagger collided with Walkerâs sword, which he raised just in time to prevent a disaster, and Nick had to forcefully keep it from releasing its stored energy.
If heâd let it, he would have split the boy in two, but that wasnât what this fight was about.
The contest of strength lasted a few seconds, with both locked in position, before Nick suddenly released his weapon.
Such a move would have been unthinkable to a Knight or Warrior, but he was an Occultist. He did not care about the established practice.
This time, his palm slammed straight into Walkerâs face, and he felt the crunch of his nose breaking under it.
To his credit, the teenager only staggered back, never losing sight of him, but before he could mount a response, Steven was between them. âEnough! First blood goes to Lord Crowley!â
Nick blinked, realizing that yes, he had indeed gotten first blood, as copious amounts flowed down Walkerâs broken nose, splattering on the ground and staining it red.
He eased his stance and reached to grab his dagger, which had âmiraculouslyâ fallen onto the ground blade-first.
âThat was well fought,â he said, extending a hand toward Walker, who accepted it with a bitter expression. âI didnât expect your speed.â
The other grunted something that could have been an acknowledgment and stepped back, grimacing as he nursed his broken nose.
âGo get yourself a potion, Walker. Then I want you to start drilling against hand-to-hand fighters!â Steven called, and the boy went to do that, disappearing into the crowd.
âAnyone else?â Nick called out before the men could disperse and saw that rather than dampening the excitement, his victory had only energized the warriors.
Another quickly took Walkerâs place. This time, it was an older man with a spear strapped to his back.
Steven gave him a hard look, as if questioning why he had entered the ring, but the man raised his hands, âI will fight without a weapon. No need to look at me like that.â
His tone was lighthearted, but Nick could sense significant reserves of mana within him. Since he appeared to be a pure martial class, that indicated he could be considerably stronger than his last opponent.
âNick,â he called out his name, acknowledging the challenge.
âElbert,â the man smiled back, a glint in his eyes.
Steven looked at them for a moment before stepping back. âSame rules, first blood and no lethal blows.â
Nick observed his latest challenger. He wore flowing robes, quite different from the standard guard uniforms worn by most others in the yard. He also seemed to move more smoothly, indicating a completely different style.
Technically, he figured he should be losing here. Although he wasn't using his spear, Elbert was clearly more skilled than Nick was portraying himself to be. Beating him without relying on direct spells would be as good as an admission that he was something beyond the ordinary.
But he couldnât hide the grin on his face at the thought of winning. His blood was pumping, and while the thoughts raced through his mind freely, he knew that holding back wasnât an option now.
Elbert took a stance, arms spread wide at his sides, with his hands forming claws. It was something heâd never seen before, so Nick readied himself for anything.
âOn my three. One, two⌠Three!â
Nick lunged forward, trying to end the fight before it could even start by thrusting his dagger at the manâs neck, but in a blink, he found himself nearly surrounded by two arms.
Aborting abruptly, he instinctively used both telekinesis and wind manipulation to leap much faster than he should have been able to.
Elbertâs arms swung through the empty air with enough force to kick up a gust that ruffled the field.
Nick thought as he touched back down a few feet away.
Elbert grinned at him, unfazed by his failure, and gracefully slid toward him. He closed the distance faster than even Walker, but without any burst of speed, hinting that this was purely physical speed.
Undeterred, Nick prepared to face him. His dagger hummed, and he smiled.
Before Elbert could reach him, his dagger darted from his hand so quickly that he would have missed it if he blinked.
The man didnât hesitate to jump out of the way, and Nick moved in, his palm extended to punish his decision.
Something bubbled up within him as his excitement and repressed mana merged into a single force.