Chapter 6
Barbarian Quest
An Ankairan underground fight club. Contrary to the negative connotations of its name, it was a completely legal entertainment establishment.
âSo, itâs basically like a fistfight?â Urich shifted his body to loosen himself up.
âUrich, Iâve told you over and over. You cannot kill anyone. Murder is against the rules here,â Donau repeated himself. He drew a picture of a man getting beheaded and crossed his arms to make an X.
âBut what if they die from a really light hit? Eh, whatever. You donât understand me, anyway.â Urich chuckled at the thought. He had decided to join the fight club after learning that this was where he could get a lot of cils. Besides, he was quite confident in himself.
âThe men here are all weaker than me.â
To Urich, they were all nothing but fools with average bodies. This place was full of weaklings who had never killed a single person before. It was hard to see them as fellow men.
âBut the women, on the other hand, were amazing.â Urich grinned as he reminisced about his glorious night in the red-light district.
âOn this side of the mountains, money is everything.â
Urich stepped onto the sand. The lost teeth of countless fighters were visible through the grains. As he entered the arena, the crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers and whistles.
âBoooo!â
âHey, isnât that the arm wrestler from the other day?â
âMy moneyâs on you!â
People screamed as they looked at Urich. Urich couldnât care less about their stares. He was too busy thinking about what to do with his winnings.
âWhat should I do with the money I make from this? Some fun with the women again, obviously, but what else?â
While Urich was busy daydreaming, his opponent entered the arena from the opposite side. The fighter was a gnarled man with knobby knuckles. He seemed like he had seen a fair share of action in the fight club.
âShould I buy an axe with the rest of the money? Their weapons were sturdier than mine. They must have better smiths here,â Urich thought to himself.
Ding!
The bell rang to signal the start of the fight. Urichâs opponent came flying forward.
âWhat an unlucky bastard, having me as the first opponent!â The fighter yelled. Urich dashed to the side.
âOne hit, right in the ribs.â
Urich dug into the fighterâs flank. Even a seasoned fight club fighter felt as slow as a snail compared to the wild animals and warriors back home. The men here didnât fight for their lives. As far as Urich was concerned, there wasnât a single proper warrior in this room.
âFordgal Arten, the man who crossed swords with me, was a warrior who was prepared to die in battle. Such men exist on this side as well,â Urich thought of the Empire knight that he had fought in the Sky Mountains.
Thud!
Urich punched the fighter with just the right amount of power. There was an audible crack coming from the fighterâs ribcage.
âIf youâre lucky, youâll live. If not, well, thatâs too bad.â
Urich turned and raised his hand in victory without looking back at his fallen opponent. The fighter on the ground was showing the whites of his eyes and foaming at his mouth. Some men rushed into the arena to carry him out on a stretcher.
âU-Urich is the winner!â
Urich looked around in boredom. This wasnât fun at all for him. If it werenât for the money, he wouldnât even have entertained the idea.
âW-what just happened? He finished him with just one punch?â
âHey, you bastard, what is this? This is rigged, isnât it?â
âYou saw the other guy laying there foaming at his mouth. Itâs not rigged.â
The crowd was getting riled up and fights were breaking out. Many of them had bet on the fighter to beat Urich because this was his first-ever fight at the club.
âHey, Urich won fair and square! Hand over the money, now!â Donau demanded the club manager. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
The manager pulled out his coin pouch as he clicked his tongue.
âTell your guy to take his time in the next fight. If he ends it like this again, weâll lose the crowd.â
âAlright, alright, I got it.â Donau nodded carelessly as he snatched the coin pouch.
âThat one punch landed us a hundred thousand cils.â
Donau couldnât stop smiling.
âLetâs do it again, Urich!â Donau raised his finger as he looked at Urich. Urich then went on to win three straight fights. Their total winning for the day was half a million cils, which was way too much for a dayâs earnings.
âHahahaha, what a day! You killed it, Urich! We just have to keep this up!â Donau exclaimed as he downed his drinks. Urich, on the other hand, wasnât lifting a finger and drank only what the women poured into his mouth.
âThis truly is heaven.â Urich looked up at the ceiling with his flushed red face. Throw a few punches, make money, and spend that money on food and drinksânot to mention the women.
âI canât believe I was running around the plains hunting for animals. What a fool I was.â
The courtesan poured some more liquor into Urichâs mouth. His uvula twitched as he swallowed the drink.
âDonât overdo it, ladies. We donât have nearly as much money to waste today.â Donau sternly warned the courtesans who were roaming around the room in their translucent gowns.
âOh, then, howâs this?â
One of the courtesans brought a hookah. They then dropped some weed in and lit it.
Bllgh, bllgh.
The woman took the hookah to her mouth first. The scented smoke flowed out of her mouth and nostrils.
âIsnât that southern tobacco? Weed?â Donauâs eyes widened with curiosity.
âThereâs no extra charge this time, Mr. Donau.â
âHah, I see what youâre doing, but Iâll allow it.â
Donau put the pipe in his mouth without hesitation and drew in the thick smoke. He felt like he was levitating.
âGive this a try, Urich.â
Urich took the pipe and took a big drag.
âThis is...â
His eyes widened. He recognized the scent.
âThis is the thing that that old shaman always smoked.â
Though the delivery mechanism was different, the scent was similar to the herbs that the shamans always smoked. He had smelled the same smell whenever he was with them. Warriors avoided weed. They thought it was something that only the old, soon-to-die warriors smoked. It was forbidden for young warriors in their prime, although no one knew why. It was just frowned upon for warriors.
âThis isnât so bad. The oldies and shamans were keeping this to themselves this whole time?â
Urich felt drowsy. His bright and sharp eyes sank low, and his focus was becoming dull. Liquor was passing like water and food kept going in even though he was already full. The whispers of the courtesans sounded sweeter than ever.
âHow does this feel, Mr. Champion of the Arena?â One of the women rhetorically asked Urich as she buried her face in between his muscular legs.
âNot bad, no, rather pretty good,â Urich murmured as he gave in to the wave of pleasure. When he woke up, a new morning had dawned.
* * *
Urich and Donau made their money from the fights in the late evenings and spent the nights drinking with the women of the Ankairan red-light district. The party would go on for the whole night. By the time they woke up the next day, it was already late afternoon.
âGet up, Urich! Time to make some money,â Donau woke Urich up from his sweet sleep. At this point, he was treating Urich like his servant.
âShut up, my head is ringing. You know I donât understand what youâre saying,â Urich muttered annoyingly as he got up with his hands wrapped around his aching head. He had been carrying on with his dissolute life with the help of Donau.
âItâs the afternoon already, huh.â
The sun was already on its way down. Urichâs body felt heavier than usual.
âPhew,â Urich took a quick deep breath. He munched away on the leftover fruit from the night before and called it breakfast.
âYouâre awake, my champion. Hereâs one for good luck.â
Smooch.
A courtesan kissed Urichâs cheek with her red-tinted lips. At this point, Urich and Donau were practically living in the red-light district.
âHow long has it been?â
Urich couldnât remember exactly how many days it had been since he made it over the Sky Mountains. Was it thirty days? No, maybe closer to fifty. He hadnât really kept track of the days; he had only repeated the same day and night over and over.
âDonau,â Urich called on his partner.
âWhat do you want, Urich? We got places to be and money to make. We got ourselves into a lot of debt so we canât afford to waste another second.â Donau snarked as he frowned. The lack of discipline and control in his life only made him spend more recklessly. He had debts everywhere, and even a loan from an Ankairan loan shark.
âMy axe,â Urich muttered as he squatted down on the ground to scratch a drawing of a pair of battle axes.
âYou want me to buy you some axes? What for? You want to chop some firewood or something?
âAxe.â
Urich emphasized his demand once more by firmly pointing at his drawing. Donau was reluctant to spend his money on Urich, but he nodded in agreement.
âFind, weâll swing by the smiths after the fights. But first, weâve got work to do.â
Urich and Donau arrived at the fight club. The arena manager was already waiting for them.
âThere you are, Urich and Donau! Everyone here is dying to see your fights.â
The manager greeted Urich. Urich had become the main attraction of the fight club. The undefeated Urich. Since his debut, he hasnât lost a single fight. People didnât care whether he won or not. They just went crazy for him every fight regardless of the outcome.
âLetâs make this quick, Urich!â Donau said to Urich as he massaged his tight back and shoulders.
âYouâre my money, You cannot lose.â
Urich sat there with his eyes closed, receiving Donauâs massage. He was having a hard time shaking off his drowsiness even though heâd had a good nightâs sleep.
âOh, I guess weâre starting now,â Urich said as he stepped into the sandy arena. It took him a second, but he was finally seeing his opponent now.
âHe doesnât look very strong. Maybe Iâll just punch him in the jaw and get it over with.â Urich thought to himself as he walked toward his opponent. The fighter lunged forward.
Thud.
Urich looked down at the fist that buried itself in his stomach.
âI thought I dodged this one?â
Thump!
A series of punches slammed Urich out of his position.
âWooaaah!â The crowd roared at the unexpected sight.
Urich raised his arms to guard himself against the punches. He couldnât believe what was happening.
âAm I rusty?â
Liquor, women, weed. Urich had never led such an unhinged life before. For the first time in his life, he realized that his fighting senses had become dull. Urich was only sixteen. He thought he was only getting stronger and that the opposite wasnât possible. He roamed the plains and forests hunting for animals and he battled against men on the battlefields.
âFucking hell.â
Urich was always calm in his fights at the club because he knew he was overwhelmingly stronger than his opponents. He felt like he was a lion playing around with his prey, but today was different. Urich didnât have the advantage. He cursed and raged in embarrassment and anger. He contracted every muscle in his body, not holding back a single ounce of strength.
Crush!
Urichâs fist slammed into the fighterâs face. The bones in his face shattered like they were brittle chalks, and his eyeballs protruded from their sockets from the pressure inside his skull.
âA-ah!â
âN-noo!â
The crowd screamed in terror.
Thud.
The fallen fighter was obviously dead. His face was ruthlessly mangled, and the eyeballs that were severed from the optic nerves were rolling on the sand. It would have been worse if he had somehow survived in this state.
The fight club in Ankaira was not a place where people fought to the death. It was just a place of entertainment for miners and gangsters to enjoy and gamble on exciting brawls.
âAh, I got carried away. I killed him by accident,â Urich said casually as if it was no big deal and wiped the dead fighterâs blood off his fist.
âUrich! I told you not to kill him, that it isnât allowed!â Donau snapped at Urich. Things quickly became extremely difficult. A man had been beaten to death inside the city. There were plenty of witnesses, so they wouldnât get charged for intentional murder. However, they still broke the rules of the fight club.
âTheyâll never let us in here again, damnit!â
This was the real reason why Donau was so angry. The fight club was his source of income. He had been spending a fortune as if heâd already made all his money from Urichâs fights, which meant that he was about to be buried under a mountain of debts with no way of paying them back.
âDonau, Urich, donât come back here for a while,â the arena manager asserted. He said a while, but really, this meant a permanent ban.
âWhat just happened? Did he kick us out just because I killed one person? What, people donât die in fights here?â Urich jumped around, screaming in anger. The other men couldnât make out what he was saying, but they quickly realized that he was outraged. The armed guards slowly approached them.
âStop it, Urich! Weâve got to get out of here.â Donau urgently talked Urich down. If Urich got into a fight with the guards and accidentally killed one of them, that would really mean big trouble.
âThis guy is a killing machine.â
Donau knew the real Urich. He had seen it himself. He jogged his memory back to their first meeting when Urich treated the lives of three men like nothing. A chill ran down his spine. The fear he had for Urich a while ago slowly came back. Urich was a terrifying man.
âMaybe itâs time for me to move on from this guy.â
After all, Donau was a con man who thrived on betrayal and scams.