When Liam opened his eyes, several concerned faces hovered over him, including Nora, Scath, Ekram, and even the elvish woman. Paying them no heed, he lifted a hand to his chest. The pain had vanished.

“Well, seems like you’re fine now, so I’m going to watch the rest of the fight now,” Ekram said, waving briefly before returning to his seat.

Liam sat up. The other three backed off. Then, he looked at the elf, pointed at his chest, and asked, “Your magic healed that?”

In response, she nodded.

That’s a ridiculous ability… Liam thought.

“So, it doesn’t hurt anymore?” Nora asked him.

“No.”

Panting, Scath padded a heavy paw on his thigh. Although unsure of what the beast wanted to say, Liam assumed his expression displayed relief.

“Pardon my asking, but I never got your names,” the elf said.

“Liam. This guy is Scath.”

“Oh. Interesting.” Then, looking at Nora, she asked, “And you?”

“Nora’sel.”

Furrowing her brows, the elf whispered, “You have a name of the forest…”

Instantly, Nora raised her guard, pulled her hood further down, and reached for a knife, but Liam grabbed her wrist to stop her. Ignoring her puzzled and worried expression, he faced the elf and said, “Ekram mentioned your name was… Iloryn, I believe.”

“It is. Iloryn Wynnelis.”

The cheers of the crowd suddenly peaked, interrupting them. By the looks of it, Kael and Conor were still exchanging blows. However, Liam could tell Kael would likely win. Even in the short span of time since waking, he noticed at least three clean hits on the same spot he previously landed a few. The guy obviously fought in a more calculative manner than his bulky counterpart.

Suddenly feeling tired, Liam yawned. Then, he looked at Iloryn and asked, “Does your magic cause drowsiness?”

“With the amount of mana I used to heal you, I’m surprised you’re not totally exhausted.”

“I see…”

“So that’s how it works,” Nora muttered, nodding.

“That’s how it works,” Iloryn replied, proudly placing her hands on her hips.

Rolling his eyes, Liam stood and ambled toward the nearest sitting log. When he sat down, the young man next to him grinned and complimented him on the previous fight before focusing on the current one again. Within a few moves, Kael brought Conor to his knees despite their size difference. In fact, he practically danced around his friend the entire time.

Throughout the rest of the evening, several fights take place. Liam studied many of the fighting styles of the men and realized most of them fought no different than typical street fighters. They lacked training. Some threw wide punches every swing. Some forgot to use their legs. One even tried to headbutt with his nose. A few certainly fought decently, especially Kael and Conor, but most of the younger ones looked ridiculously green. Honestly, he wondered if all of them actually lived as soldiers before joining. Perhaps he could train them in the future if he officially joined the group. Thinking about their terrible moves even prevented him from falling asleep quickly.

* * * * *

The next few days passed without hindrances aside from a small group of goblins and a pack of forest shucks. The goblins looked like green-skinned versions of the ghulins but most wore animal skin cloth and wielded wooden clubs or spears. On the other hand, the shucks looked like coyotes with bristly, dark-green fur sharp as a porcupine’s quills. Although both of their appearances left Liam with multiple cuts or bruises, he certainly added his fair share of corpses to their burial pyres. During the second pyre, Kael noticed his puzzled expression and explained that burning the bodies was a necessary precaution after encountering so many ghulins.

When the sun began to set on the sixth day of the journey, two sharp notes sounded from the horn, signaling it was time to set up camp. As usual, Liam secretly retrieved his tent from his inventory. Scath watched in amusement as he and Nora worked on setting up the canvas shelter. While pounding a tent peg into place, he heard Iloryn and Ekram speaking nearby.

“Are your men going to throw another tournament thing soon?” the elf woman asked, voice oozing with hope and anticipation despite asking the same thing every night.

“Answer’s same as last time, lass,” Ekram answered, his tone having lost any semblance of respect after getting to know the woman a little. The attitude rubbed off on some of the other mercenaries as well, but the woman looked more lively as a result.

“It’ll be fine if I heal everyone, right?”

Ekram sighed and replied, “If you really want it to happen, go tempt Conor into it.”

“Oh. Good idea,” she muttered, cupping a hand around her fist as though hearing a ground-breaking revelation for the first time. Within moments, she ran off to find the big guy.

Although he listened to the whole conversation, Liam continued hammering the tent pegs into place. Ekram noticed him and wandered over.

“Haven’t had the chance to ask what you’ve thought of it all so far,” the mercenary leader said.

“Not bad, I guess.”

“Have you considered whether or not to join us? You’re a capable fighter.”

“If I join, would you let me kick those greenhorns into shape?”

“Heh.” The man chuckled for the first time since they met. Then, he said, “I’m tempted to say yes, but I haven’t seen how capable you are yet.”

“Fair enough. Can’t deny that.”

“If you’re that interested, take on a few of them if there are more fights tonight.”

Would give me more opportunities to adjust more to my physical changes, too, Liam thought. Aloud, he replied, “Sounds good.”

“Alright, then. I look forward to it,” Ekram said while walking away with a hand raised.

* * * * *

A clenched fist whizzed past Liam’s head. Even in the dwindling light, foreseeing the attacks of the young man in front of him felt easier than swinging a baseball bat. The kid didn’t even hold up his guard with the other arm.

Without exerting much effort, Liam grabbed the guy’s wrist with one hand and began using the kid’s own momentum against him. All in one fluid motion, he pulled the kid’s arm, twisted him around, and threw him to the ground chest-down. Once he had him down, he pulled one of his arms behind his back and pressed a knee against his spine.

“You’ve got a lot to learn, kid,” Liam said, nearly adopting an instructive tone.

“I’m… not a kid… I’m twenty,” the young man retorted, struggling between words. “And I give…”

Liam released his hold and backed off. The young man then rose to his feet while rubbing his wrist. Several of the onlookers nodded or clapped in approval. A few handed some copper coins around, though most seemed to have bet on Liam in the first place.

“Uh… What was your name again?” the young man asked.

“Liam. You?”

“Ivan, firstborn of the Bernstadt branch family.”

“I’ll be honest. I have no idea what that means,” Liam replied, raising a brow. “I’ll only remember you as Ivan, a kid that needs to get better at fighting.”

“Ah… yes. I forgot that’s how it is ‘round here,” the young man muttered, hanging his head. Sighing, he returned to the seats.

Not exactly what I was going for, but I guess it’s fine, Liam thought.

“So, who else wants to fight our visitor?!” Ekram exclaimed, lifting up a mug of ale.

Several confident-looking young men stood at the ready. At least, they did until Torin stood as well, his eager smile visible through his thick brown beard. As one of the most veteran members, he took precedence over most of the twenty or so men. Not even waiting for any go ahead, he strutted into the imaginary ring, shoulders wide and chest puffed out.

“You ready, mate?” the man asked, hazel eyes brimming with anticipation.

“As I’ll ever be…”