Book 5 - Chapter 81 - The Mad Avenger (1/2)

Six victors. Three from Seven Leaf Company; two from Red Banner Company; and Desmond.

These six men were poised to battle for the realm’s great honor – Champion of the Chosen Council.

An envoy from Imperia was the one responsible for holding this Council. He addressed the crowd. “The strongest six of all the Chosen have been revealed. We now ask all of our contestants to approach the main stage!”

Excitement rose among the crowd who pressed in from all directions. Be it Red Banner, Seven Leaf or Summer-Autumn, or any other normal citizen – everyone’s attention was fixed on this field where a great battle was about to take place.

Seventh Leaf, the Demolition Man with his heavy gauntlets, was said to be capable of punching a man in two. No one had ever been known to survive his ire. Without a doubt he was the strongest Chosen in Redleaf.

Being leader of the Chosen for Red Banner was no easy task either. For twenty years the First Bearer had been a big name in the city, and his power was also vast. He was likely the only person able to challenge the Venerated.

The others were also special, in their own way. This was especially true for Desmond and Cloudhawk.

Both men were total unknowns in this city but were shaping up to be this year’s dark horse. They had defeated all contenders in their respective groups, and easily. Now they appeared on the same stage with four famous Chosen of Redleaf. They were mysterious outsiders, especially compared to the lauded men they knew as apex Chosen already.

People wondered but did not know what special abilities they kept up their sleeves. But that just made this fight more uncertain, and more interesting.

But despite the wild cards things still seemed firmly within Seven Leaf Company’s grasp. Besides Master Seven there were two other Venerated on the field. Three people working toward the same goal gave them a significant advantage.

But those were the rules.

The purpose of the Chosen Council wasn’t just to weed or the strongest Chosen. It was also to determine which of the city’s organizations held the most sway. Those who proved themselves were qualified to present themselves before the king and pay tribute. In order to avoid a small of medium-sized organization form sweeping the contest by inexplicably hiring an especially strong Chosen, the rules were set up like this.

The final contest was a six-man melee.

Seven Leaf Company and Red Banner Company were perennial powers in the city so five of their representatives were on the field.

It wasn’t unheard of for smaller groups to get one or two representatives in the final fight. This year Desmond stood as an island, alone and under siege. Odds of him coming out on top were practically nil.

The main field was easily five times the size of the smaller arenas. Easily large enough to accommodate two or three thousand people standing close together. The six contestants, all well-rested, entered the field from different places. The final contest of this year’s Chosen Council was about to begin.

“Who do you think will be the last one standing?”

“What kind of question is that? Seventh Leaf, of course!”

“No doubt. Not only is he super fast and super strong, he’s also got great defense and supernatural power. He’s the perfect warrior!”

“I’m not so sure. Red Banner’s First Standard Bearer is no scrub. They say his relic is a spear that spits fire. One stab and his victim melts away in an instant. He’s also got a flaming phoenix that breathes and attacks with fire. Not even someone like Seventh Leaf can survive that kind of onslaught.”

Everyone was looking forward to see who would end up being right.

But there wasn’t a whole lot of suspense about it, either. If it wasn’t Seventh Leaf, it was the First Bearer. Fifth and Six Leaf were strong, but far inferior to Master Seven. As far as the citizens were concerned, Desmond and Cloudhawk were just background noise.

Cloudhawk was only the source of some talk because he’d killed one of the Venerated. But besides that, he hadn’t displayed very much strength. He hadn’t even shown off any strong relics or showed off his divine beast. All of his opponents had been defeated with his three-edged rod. Because he’d only used fighting skills, the crowds all figured he was average in psychic ability at best. He was more like a warrior, not a Chosen.

Desmond was even less impressive. They didn’t even understand his fighting style. The only way he’d beaten Second Leaf was through trickery, and someone who had to rely on trickery couldn’t be very strong.

The six contenders walked in close.

Seventh Leaf fixed his eyes on First Bearer, but only for a second. They slid over to Cloudhawk and sized him up. “Kid, I’m honestly surprised you’ve agree to get in this field.”

Cloudhawk stared back. “Why wouldn’t I?”

There was a dangerous glint in the older man’s eye. “Do you have any idea what’s about to happen to you?”

Cloudhawk’s face was still hidden behind the mask, keeping both his features and expression a mystery. He didn’t bother to answer Seventh Leaf’s rhetorical question. He wouldn’t be wasting time here if it wasn’t his best chance at getting into Imperia.

Since the battle for Sanctuary, Cloudhawk’s mental resources had risen to nearly Master Demonhunter levels. It would be no exaggeration to say that he was like a god among these people. Yet there seemed to be no end to these idiots jumping at him like they were worth a damn. None of them had any understanding of what real power was. They all thought the piddling strength they bore was something to be proud of.

Little did they understand that if they took all these ‘mighty Chosen’ and threw them into Skycloud, they wouldn’t even be considered a halfway decent demonhunter squad.

When Cloudhawk didn’t respond to him, Seventh Leaf’s face grew cold. Now that this nameless fool was here, he would make sure he wouldn’t get away. There was no hurry to deal with him in this instant, he turned his attention to Desmond.

Desmond looked like he’d yet to hit thirty. A promising young man.

Whether it was luck or skill, standing among these other men meant he had some merit. But before members of Seven Leaf Company could speak, First Sandard Bearer offered the first invitation.

“You’re not bad. On behalf of Red Banner, I want to offer you a chance to join our company. Pledge service and help us defeat Seven Leaf, and you will earn yourself a respected position.” He wasted no time extending the proverbial olive branch. “President Beck Roth is the wisest and most talented man in Redleaf. More than worthy for a man of your skill.”

Red Banner’s First Standard Bearer was a fine figure of a man. He was dressed in simple armor and in his hand was a red spear. His presence was no less domineering than Seventh Leaf. For him to personally offer Desmond an invitation was a sign of respect.

Seventh Leaf’s expression was sour. He looked to the left and right.

It was Sixth Leaf that responded on behalf of his company. “Red Banner is weak. They have only two Bearers left. If you side with them, it isn’t even certain you’ll walk off this field. But if you join Seven Leaf Company our victory is certain. I swear on their behalf that no consequences will come to you for what you’ve done. You can enjoy the fruits of victory with us.”

“That’s right!” Fifth Leaf joined in. “Only we can help you get to Imperia. You don’t know what the city is like. It is full of opportunities and temptations. It can change your life!”

Red Banner’s First Standard Bearer listened with a dark glower. Things did not look good for him or the company he served. If this Desmond character agreed to their terms, it would leave him and Cloudhawk against four opponents. He didn’t think they could overcome those odds.

First Bearer hurried to outline more of his offer. “Otus Blanc is petty and domineering, he cares only for himself. But President Roth has a sharp eye and knows quality when he sees it. He can provide you anything you could want. Join Red Banner and I will personally see to your training. We will turn you into our Fifth Standard Bearer!”

Both sides were eager to underline the virtues of their camp. Yet as they continued to yell over one another, Desmond kept his head down and didn’t respond. When they were finally done the corners of his mouth twitched into a grin. Deep in his throat, despite efforts to surprise it, came a derisive chuckle. It certainly was not the time to be laughing at these men.

What was he laughing at? What was so funny? No one had an answer.