“For our next match, on my left, reintroducing a man who had battled his way through countless trials and tribulations, the devilish iceman Jarmin Condor!”
The man the announcer indicated was a tall pretty boy with flowing white hair. He truly did have an icy appearance. His expression was cold, and the women all seemed to make adoring sounds as they looked at him. Devilish didn’t have anything to do with some kind of dark power, and everything to do with his effect on women! Thankfully, my women weren’t affected by such a pretty boy.
“Sigh… the things I would do to that man.” Salicia purred.
“Eh?”
“He’s so pretty.”
“Et Tu, Shao?”
“Relax, Master, there is more to a man than looks. Just because he’s pretty as a flower doesn’t mean he’s desirable. Master has many manly traits that Jarmin couldn’t compare with!” Miki said defensively.
“R-really?” I sniffled. “I’m manly?”
“Ah! Shao, you made Master cry! Repent!”
“M-master! Please use my lap as a pillow as part of my apology!”
“Apology my ass! Aren’t you just taking advantage now!”
Ruby crossed her arms and snorted. “I don’t know what the big deal is. He’s not that good-looking at all. He’s all skinny, looks sick. I like a man with some meat on his bones.”
“You mean, like Deek?” Miki asked with a mischievous grin as she tried to keep Shao from offering her lap to me.
“Ah!” Ruby’s cheeks turned red.
I didn’t notice though, as my attention was the next opponent who was being announced.
“And on my right, so far undefeated, he comes from the Imperial Cloud Meadow, where they call him the Demon-Slaying Hero, Bernard Castille!”
In a word, the guy looked cool. He had a long cloak that fluttered behind him in the wind, and half of his face was covered with a scarf. He wore a black-rimmed hat. In his hand, still in its sheath, was a long-curved sword that might have been a katana. He seemed to have a similar Asian appearance to Shao. Was that the look of demonic blood, or Imperial Cloud Meadow? I just didn’t know enough about them to tell. As for Shao, she said her days before her capture into slavery were foggy, and then it was just a daily struggle for survival. As for the lore I gained, it never showed much detail except when relevant to the story.
“Ready? Begin!”
Bernard only stood there as Jarmin moved into action. He shot out a bolt of ice, but that was only a distraction as he started to glide across the stage. I realized he was using the ice to travel, causing the ground immediately in front of him to freeze as he skated around the rink. He was incredibly fast, and he moved like lightning. The ice bolt he had sent was dodged with a slight lean from the other man. Jarmin darted back and forth across the arena, but Bernard barely seemed to move.
The longer time progressed, the colder it got. Soon, even the first few stands were starting to shiver and cover themselves. Only Bernard on stage seemed unaffected by this cold, watching Jarmin with only a passing interest like he was watching a fish in a pond.
“Since you won’t make the first move, allow me!” Jarmin suddenly yelled.
He suddenly split into two people, although one of them was completely made of ice. They attacked as a pincer attack, each sending a hundred icicles out at Bernard. It was a surefire attack, but even that wasn’t enough. Both the fake Jarmin and the real one created blades of ice, and they launched into a flurry of attacks. With a hundred ice daggers tying Bernard down, he’s powerless to block one Jarmin, let alone two.
Only a second before the first dagger of ice touched Bernard did he finally move. He pulled his curved sword from his sheath and swung a single arc. It wasn’t aimed at anything and seemed almost lazy. In an instant, a wave of energy exploded out. The icicles all shattered, as did the swords the two Jarmin’s held. Well, one Jarmin, as the other also exploded. As for the other, he was hit back in a horizontal line, flying away from Bernard. His strike hadn’t even been aimed at anything in particular, but the force caused Jarmin to slam into a wall outside of the arena barriers. Disqualification.
The crowds immediately rose into applause. This wasn’t the first-time seeing Bernard fight. Had I been paying attention at the betting rings outside; the bet was overwhelmingly in his favor. The other guy seemed to have been outmatched. As for me, I was starting to have a sinking feeling these last six matches wouldn’t go so easily.
“He’s the running champion, also a solo like Carmine. He is who we need to beat,” Salicia explained. “What does Master think?”
My eyes fell on a young woman who had walked out. She shouted some choice words at Bernard, who ignored her and then began to fret over the iceman still embedded in the wall.
“I think I see an old friend I’d like to talk to,” I responded.
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