Chapter 12: The Match

  Eleha returned with a couple of new bows and a very happy archer. They walked further into the yard to practice together.

  The fighter and warrior from White Glow wanted to spar with Garfield again but he declined. It wasn’t quite the right time or place. Brooke asked Garfield if he had anything he could offer her to help her healing ability.

  “You specialize in magic that heals multiple allies at the same time, right?” Garfield asked her.

  “Yes! I’m somewhat famous at the church for that unusual aptitude, if I say so myself.”

  “How are you at healing individuals who are more severely wounded?”

  “I can cast a basic healing spell, of course, but I need to bring the person to a more experienced healer afterwards to further stabilize and finish healing them.”

  “I have an idea.” Garfield stopped to think for a few moments, then started laughing to himself, hand holding his mouth shut.

  “What is it!?” Brooke was eager for Garfield to let her in on it.

  “?Summon Item of Fancy: White Staff of Healing?. This will boost your healing magic slightly, but it has a second ability that I think you’ll like.”

  Brooke literally jumped up and down with glee as she took the staff and inspected it. “What else does it do!?”

  “Try hitting me with it.”

  “…What?”

  “Hit me with that staff. If you’re worried, you can strike me lightly on the side of my shoulder… Just enough to make me say ouch is okay.” Several people who were watching the affair looked at each other, wondering what the Duke was doing.

  “Okay. Here I go.” Brooke wasn’t particularly skilled at attacking with her staff, so the motion was a bit clumsy, but she did strike Garfield with the staff. When it made contact, it released a loud chime. The noise got everyone’s attention, including the people who hadn’t been watching. “What was THAT!?”

  “You see,” Garfield explained, “that staff is not capable of damaging what it strikes, so don’t use it to defend yourself. However… it heals whatever it strikes. The harder you strike the target, the more it heals.”

  “Wha!?” Brooke slammed the staff down on her leg, and it made a louder noise. “Amazing! Let me try casting a spell, too.”

  Brooke tried casting a standard healing spell on Garfield. She tilted her head in thought. “I think it was more effective?”

  “It probably only enhanced the spell a little bit. I wouldn’t worry too much about it…”

  “Okay!” Brooke didn’t seem to mind. The concussive healing ability was incredible by itself.

  --

  “Garfield, will you spar with me?” Yttria asked him.

  “No fair!” the warrior from White Glow shouted as she ran over. “He wouldn’t spar with me!”

  “Yes, but, I’ve never sparred with him before!” Yttria declared.

  “Yttria,” Count Polonio said as he came walking over. “You’re fellow adventurers, so why don’t you spar in private another time?”

  “Father, yes, that make sense…”

  “Count, th—“ Garfield began to thank the Count, but he was interrupted by the very fox-man.

  “Duke, I challenge you to a match!” Gasps spread throughout the crowd, and the people who had been sitting further away, including even the Queen, suddenly came over to observe what was happening. Only Hannah and Solana remained in the sitting area, apparently in their own little world.

  “Count, why do you want a match? And why at such a time?” Garfield kind of hoped he could defuse the situation.

  “Since the moment we first met, I wanted to challenge you. Then I learned of your mastery with the sword, but I held it in. When we received word that you disappeared, I thought my chance had vanished. While I still have the opportunity, and the strength, I will seize it! As my daughter will surely tell you, I live for moments like these.”

  Yttria reluctantly nodded, not wanting to admit it.

  “Win or lose, there will be no hard feelings. Face me, Duke!”

  “All right.” Cheers erupted at this very unusual match between two highly ranked and well-regarded members of the kingdom. Garfield’s servants retrieved several high-quality wooden practice swords. He removed his suit jacket, picked one up, and enhanced himself with magic. Once again, he was guessing at what level would prepare him for a roughly even match. He didn’t care so much who won. Garfield just didn’t want to be wasting the Count’s time.

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  The Count smirked and then picked up two swords, one in each hand. “Are you ready, Duke!?” He released a killing intent similar to what he exhibited back in the cathedral. “Here I come!”

  Against the Count’s onslaught of attacks, it was all Garfield could do to fend them off with his single sword. Garfield’s movements were graceful, whereas the Count’s motions were direct and abrupt. The pair were moving all around the combat area, with Garfield always giving way and the Count following.

  When Garfield noticed a small opening, he attempt a kick towards the side of the Count’s abdomen. Apparently, the count expected this and kneed the kick away.

  “Your skills are impressive, but they were not honed on the battlefield! If you want to take my daughter from me, you’ll need to do better than that!”

  “Wha!?” As Garfield fended off two near-simultaneous strikes, the Count transitioned into a spinning combo where Garfield needed to deflect multiple attacks from one direction in short succession. Unexpectedly, the Count stopped his rotation facing away from Garfield. In the split-second it took Garfield to decide how to exploit that poor positioning from the Count, the Count’s fox-tail wrapped around Garfield’s necktie and yanked, pulling Garfield off-balance.

  The Count transitioned into a low sweeping kick, knocking out Garfield’s legs from below him. As Garfield flipped sideways in place, the Count circled his body around for a second more powerful high kick which sent Garfield flying as he tumbled through the air. He landed gracefully like a swan, a wingless projectile swan colliding head-first with an oncoming freight train. At least, that’s how Garfield would remember it.

  Everyone had been holding their breath while watching the incredible exchange of sword strikes, but the tension broke as everyone gasped at the sight of their host getting blasted away in spectacular fashion. Yttria, who had been beet red at her father’s surprise declaration, came back to her senses and ran over to tend to Garfield, who was little more than a heap on the ground. “Garfield!”

  “Yttria, I think your father wants you to become a nun.”

  “I… what?”

  Count Polonio put down the swords he had been holding and walked over to Brooke, whose jaw was still hanging down. “Ms. Briarwood, could I borrow that white staff of yours for a moment?” She handed it over mostly without thinking as the Count carried it over to Garfield’s location and got down on one knee. He struck Garfield with it several times, releasing a chime each time. “Duke, how do you feel?”

  Garfield tightened his necktie and stood up as though nothing was wrong. “I think I’m ready for dessert.” Garfield pushed his way through the small crowd to return to the sitting area.

  “Father—“

  “Oh I know, Yttria. If he was truly serious, I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “Then why—“

  “Count.” The Queen suddenly cut in.

  “Yes, my Queen,” the Count readily greeted her.

  “Was it necessary for you to make such a show of kicking one of this kingdom’s Dukes halfway across the yard?”

  All the sudden, the Count started sweating. “N-No, I got carried away…”

  The Queen exhaled loudly. “I don’t even know what I will tell the King about this.”

  “Mother, tell him Duke Garfield let the Count win because he wanted to try out the dessert course.”

  “Charlotte, you—“ The Queen turned her head away and covered her mouth for a moment. “Fine, I will do just that. Do be careful, Count. I wouldn’t want any rumors spreading around Bretten that our finest military leader’s kick is less potent than a pastry.”

  --

  That evening, Garfield returned to his cellar. “Anything happen?”

  “No. I’ve been guarding the prisoners as you ordered. They have attempted to coerce me into taking various actions but, of course, I did not allowed it.

  “I’ll do it!” one of the other prisoners shouted. “I’ll become a vampire.”

  “What are you—“ another prisoner tried to warn, but Garfield cut him off.

  “Are you sure? There’s no going back.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m in no position to ask this but, why are you doing it?”

  “I look at him and,” the prisoner gestured to the vampire guarding him. “I see beauty.”

  “You do?” Garfield asked, a bit shocked. “I mean, to each his own, but the word beauty seems like a bit of a stretch. No offense.”

  “Master, you could never offend me.”

  “Not on the outside,” the prisoner clarified. “In the past couple of days, I’ve witnessed creatures of unspeakable power and presence. I realized that I am nothing. Now, I look at my former comrade, and I see what he has become. This is my one chance at ascension.”

  “It’s risky. I don’t know what will happen. Will you take that risk?”

  “Yes!”

  “Very well.” Garfield reverse teleported the volunteer out of his cell. “Do it.”

  The second-generation vampire bit into his former comrade’s neck. He smiled, all while being bitten, and then fell to the floor unconscious. The rest of the prisoners waited with bated breath. All except for one.

  “I won’t do it! I won’t become a vampire! And I don’t want to live out the rest of my life in this cell, either! Just kill me!”

  “If that is your choice,” Garfield agreed. “You’ll need to wait until after we see how this goes, though.”

  A few minutes passed. Finally, the unconscious man woke and then stood up. Garfield confirmed with sensing magic that he was a third-generation vampire.

  “Who is your master?” Garfield asked. The vampire pointed to the one that turned him, rather than Garfield. “If that is true, then why did you answer my question so obediently?”

  “That’s…” the third-generation vampire stopped to think. “For so long as my master views you as his master, I will obey you without question.”

  “What will you do if your current master should happen to get destroyed in the future?” Garfield wasn’t sure if he could trust the answer to his question, but it was worth asking.

  “I—“ the vampire trailed off. “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s change the subject then. How do you feel?”

  “Incredible. Power rages through my body.” He released an intimidating aura for just a moment, causing the rest of the prisoners to flinch.

  “Hm, a more positive response than last time,” Garfield observed. “Do you have any cravings?”

  “Yes. I need blood.”

  “How much?”

  “Just a little, I think.”

  “You,” Garfield said as he pointed to the prisoner who wanted to die. “Do you still want to die?”

  “…Yes.”

  Garfield reverse teleported the man out of the cell. “After I leave, bring him to the next room and take his blood. Do not allow him to suffer. Continue to guard the other prisoners.”

  Both vampires bowed to Garfield as he left. The remaining prisoners were all thinking about how Garfield had actually put considerable effort into warning the prisoners about the risks of becoming a vampire.

  --

  At bedtime, Garfield vocalized his thoughts. “I don’t care if you two want to practice kissing but… Does it have to be on MY bed? WHILE I’m trying to sleep?”

  Hannah and Solana both giggled in response to Garfield’s complaint. He reached out a hand towards Solana to teleport her somewhere else. Right before he made contact, she teleported to the other side of his bed using her own ability. Hannah then teleported to the other side of the bed as well.

  Garfield rolled his eyes and shifted on to his stomach. He pulled a pillow down over the back of his head.