Chapter 7: Then She Pouts

Inside a small mansion in the peaceful city of Bilford, a certain duel had started.

Fighting a suit of armor was a lot harder than he thought. There were no emotions, no muscles, and no reactions to read.

Using a small side step, Jude avoided the spearpoint aimed at his head. The earthen pot behind him was destroyed and another one shattered as he dodged the armor’s wide swing.

He leaped backwards as he imagined a gun. Mana traveled to all five of his fingertips. One by one, Jude emptied them on the same spot, on the armor’s gauntlet that carried the weapon.

But it was ineffective. It accepted his hits like a tank while retaliating a strike of its own. Whether this sturdiness was caused by the spirit possessing it or the materials used, Jude had no time to muse.

The suit of armor lunged forward and stabbed its spear numerous times. Jude squinted his eyes and avoided each hit with precision, lightly swaying his body.

If long range wouldn’t work then it was time to harass it in melee.

As he grooved in and out of the weapon’s range, a faint cracking noise resounded around his hips. Sitting around for three years took him out of his best shape. But he was calm. There was no need to panic. After all he had not attained any wounds yet.

Jude moved on to his next plan. He traced the mana deep inside him as he imagined two swords forming in each of his hands. White light extended from his hands and formed a sword. The length, the hilt, the guard - he copied the exact same form of the sword he once sold in the shop.

Jude hurled a sword forward, but the armor deflected it with ease. In that small opening that his attack had created, Jude stepped closer and held his sword with both hands and swung forth.

The armor avoided being cut in twain, but a large slash mark was left on its chest plate.

However that was it. Twisting the blade in his hands, Jude mowed down the arm which carried the spear. Its gauntlet bounced on the marble floors, and that metallic echo announced his victory.

“Whew. This means I won, right?”

Jude felt relieved and so was his intense concentration. The sword in his hand dissipated into small little particles of light.

“Young man, you’re tough. I was trying to kill you there.”

Jude shrugged. “Damn, never knew Spirits could be this troublesome. Anyways you got your duel and I won.”

“Understood. As promised, you have the right to decide my fate.”

Jude scratched his nape. “Just guard this house like you normally do. That ought to keep them happy.”

“As you wish.”

The suit of armor picked up its fallen arm and through the use of some earth magic, the spirit was able to mold its arm back together. Jude watched the sight in awe. Seeing magic firsthand never failed to amused him.

“Oh, before you go, Sir Blacksmith. This is something you might want to consider.”

“What is it?”

“Be careful. I had a taste of your mana just now and it was the most exquisite food I’ve ever had.”

Jude furrowed his brows. “You’re creeping me out, old man. But, what do you mean by food?”

“It is as you heard. We spirits survive by feeding on mana. And yours is one of a kind. In the sixty-seven years I gained my consciousness, this is the first time I’ve ever tasted one that is so addicting.”

Jude stroked his chin. If what the spirit said was true then he needed to let Celes know.

“Alright, thanks for letting me know, old man.”

The armor waved his goodbye. “Although I can’t guarantee your safety, come back if you need some advice.”

Now there was even more reason for him not to come back.

Out of nowhere, a man wearing a black suit approached Jude and guided him to the area where he was rewarded. Jude made sure to expressed his gratitude. Building trust with his clients was as important as the job itself.

* * *

Blue clouds cluttered the morning sky. As Jude exited the mansion, he saw the various peddlers setting up their stalls on the streets. He considered the idea. Peddling was something he was intrigued to try.

As soon as he returned to the shop, Jude was called to the smithy.

He saw his master busy hammering a blade while buckets of sweat dripped down. Those dribbles of sweat evaporated into a hot steam that exuded from his skin. He found his muscular build astonishing, but Jude didn’t want to be as bulky at the same time.

“Oh, Jude, come here, I have a gift for you.”

Noticing his presence, the old man set his hammer aside and gestured him to come along.

Jude was quick on his feet. “This is…”

But, contrast to what he had expected, it was nothing but a simple hammer. A hammer for flattening or hitting metals. It reflected a crystal light as Jude stared into its silver surface. Attached at the edge of its wooden handle was a clear gem resembling a cat’s eye.

“Your journey to become a fine blacksmith would be tough, but I expect great things from you.”

The old man smiled as he passed the hammer into his hands. A smile full of expectations. Jude didn’t know why, but it felt good. Maybe because Jude could feel that his Master truly believed in him.

Jude was silent for half a second, then he took a deep breath. “Thank you, Master. I will try my utmost not to shame or betray your trust.”

“Very good. Think of that hammer as a part of you and always keep it with you at all times,” he said, tapping his shoulder.

Just when he was about to enter a state of solemnness, the old man slapped him on the back. A hard whack that made him crumple in agony.

“Dammit, old man!”

“This calls for a celebration! A good time to unwind. What say you, my apprentice? Let’s go drinking!”

He slapped Jude on back as he yammered on and on. Nonetheless there was no reason for him to decline. Jude wasn’t interested in drinking, but he found it good to try different things once in awhile.

But as Jude mused in silence, the old man continued, “A shame, Jude. I heard this bar just got a new waitress and she’s an Effu. You know how Effus are said to be very beautiful.”

His words enticed his ears - like a bear tempted by a honeycomb.

Jude sprang to his position and repeatedly shrugged the old man. “An Effu? Where can I find this place?”

Jude’s imagination was running wild. An Effu in Bilford meant one thing: Celes.

Who knows what kind of shady things they were forcing her to do? Maybe they even made her wear some really embarrassing outfit? The questions were flying in his head.

Jude harassed the old man until they left the shop in a hurry. His excitement didn’t even give his Master time to change.

After passing the bridge, they turned right and continued forward. Eventually, the old man stopped in front of a building with a big wooden chicken on the roof similar to a weather vane.

“Here’s the place,” he gestured Jude to the front door, panting and sweating.

“Let’s go in.”

Not even stopping to catch his breath, Jude pushed his way inside and found himself standing in front of a bar.

“Welcome to Bilford’s—wait, Jude?”

Jude waved a hand. “Yo, Celes, you look beautiful in that dress.”

Her pleasant smile that greeted him was immediately replaced by a scowl.

Jude nodded in approval as he looked at Celes’s outfit. The short skirt and frills did their job, but what he liked the most was her loose hair flowing down to her waist. And even though she was irritated and not smiling, Jude found her very cute.

No, that was wrong. It was exactly because she was upset that she looked so adorable.

Celes frowned and clicked her tongue in annoyance with her ears twitching. That pouting expression made him want to lick the tip of her ears. Not good. Jude knew he was in a terrible position.

“What do you want, Jude? Can’t even work properly with you here,” she said through pouting lips.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to see if the rumors are true.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Rumors, what type of rumors?”

“That an Effu’s working here.”

“And where did you hear this so-called rumor?”

The old man averted his gaze as soon as Jude spun around to ask.

That reaction alone was enough for him to realize he was the one who schemed all of this. Nonetheless seeing Celes in a waitress outfit alone made the trip worthwhile.

“Here and there,” Jude said. “Anyways, can you get us a table?”

“Fine. Over here.” Celes showed them to their table and quickly left.

“Is she mad that I’m here?”

“Probably, but you’re quite lucky to have her,” his Master said while glancing all over the pub.

“What makes you say that?” asked Jude.

“I’m not supposed to say this, but she asked me for a job a few days ago,” he continued, his eyes ogling a waitress’s swaying butt.

The same waitress approached them. “What can I get you gentlemen tonight?”

The old man smiled and winked at her. “Beer.”

She winked back and shook her ass once. “And?”

“Milk,” said Jude, sighing.

He didn’t want to involve himself in any flirtatious behavior - at least not when Celes was watching - but this event reminded him of his time in New York he couldn’t help but bring a smile out.

After the waitress left, Jude pressed a palm on his face and rubbed his forehead.

“Did she tell you the reason why?” asked Jude.

“Hmm, when I asked, all she said was that she wanted to get you something as thanks.”

“I see, that’s a good enough reason for Celes to work here.”

Now Jude was even more perplexed. He still found it hard to believe that someone as prideful as Celes would be working in a bar. Then again, it was also because of that pride that she could stand working in this place.

Jude wasn’t sure why, but his heart was bouncing with happiness.

Other than his parents and a certain childhood friend, nobody really had paid this much attention to him, and most of the time he was ignored. But now, Jude could hardly prevent his grin from splitting his face.

* * *

Jude laughed seeing his master slouched on the table while holding his last remaining mug.

To think that a person like him was once a knight, Jude could barely believe his story.

He, Frederick Berthold, was quite loyal and has achieved many things in his youth.

Because of his achievements, the king befriended him and he was soon introduced to the king’s family where he met one of the king’s concubines. Their ages were far apart, but that still did not stop Frederick from falling in love.

A few years after that meeting, the concubine of the king gave birth to a son. Even though it was the second prince, the King was still delighted. Boys are a must in a royal family.

The King donned the child with expensive clothing, gave him leisure to do whatever he wished, and spoiled him. All of the things that the concubine wished for were granted and she was even admitted as an official member of the royalty.

Frederick, who was a close friend of the king at that time, was appointed to become the royal escort for the boy. Even if he could not be together with the woman he loved, as long as he was able to protect someone important to her, he was already satisfied. Thus Frederick agreed to the King’s suggestion.

However tragedy quickly came.

When the young boy turned five, the King demanded him to perform the ritual that will gauge his magical power. If it turned out that his potential could surpass his elder brother, he would become the successor instead.

The castle was nearly toppled upside down while preparations were being made.

Everybody in the capital prepared for that event and on that fateful day…

Nothing.

The boy wielded the kingdom’s holy sword, but he wasn’t able to successfully connect with the sword’s spirit. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t able to bring out an ounce of mana in himself.

When Jude asked if the boy was still too young for the ceremony, his master shook his head.

The sword was made for the sole purpose of showing your latent power. Just by holding it, one could see how strong they would become in the future. Perfect for choosing their king. But that Holy sword did not flash at all when the boy held it up high.

The ceremony ended in a failure.

After that the boy, along with his mother, were immediately banished from the palace. All of the liberty they once possessed had been stripped and they were discarded. The boy adopted a twisted personality as everybody else treated him worse than they would a rock.

Somebody who couldn’t use a spell in a magic driven world.

Somebody who couldn’t connect with spirits.

A royal disgrace.

Frederick saw this chance - his one and only chance. Though he was only known as a royal guard, the boy’s mother still trusted him and they decided to run away.

Because with the current state of things, the boy would hold no future in that place, she placed her bets on him.

They crossed the borders and eventually reached Bilford. Since Bilford was part of the trade city alliance, a pass wasn’t required to enter or exit. It was the perfect opportunity for the three of them to start a new life.

Frederick threw everything away and lived a peaceful life along with the boy and his mother. They didn’t get married, but he was happy by the fact that they were together.

However, shortly after they found peace, the boy’s mother left this world. The boy was only seven, but he had already experienced the harsh reality of life.

Frederick was mortified, but when he remembered that she left her son in his care he could never show his weak side. He had never gotten along with the rotten kid, but because of her death, they connected with each other.

The old man studied the path of blacksmithing along with the boy. The child could not use magic, but he was still young and full of potential. Therefore, he trained the boy in the art of swordsmanship and the boy strengthened his resolve through blacksmithing.

Because the boy couldn’t use magic, he had to find a different way to get stronger. The training was harsh, and the boy thought of quitting many times, but his mother’s death reminded him of how this world only favors the strong.

Upon reaching the age of nineteen the boy decided to wander the continent to become the strongest swordsman. But before he left the boy, who grew up into a fine young man, called him father.

For Frederick, that was the best moment in his life.

A sad tale, Jude thought. But in the end his Master had achieved everything he had wanted. Even though it was just for a fleeting moment, he was together with his beloved.

And after hearing this story, Jude wondered to himself: How far would he go for Celes?

* * *

A night at work had never been so stressful. She had to glance at Jude every other minute to see what he was up to.

“I’m done for the night,” Celes said, taking the chair beside Jude. “Are you drunk?” she peered at his face and asked.

“Nah, I only drank milk.”

“I saw you ogling the other waitresses,” she flushed and pouted, her eyes never leaving his face.

“It wasn’t me.” Jude laughed then sent her the most pleasant of smiles. He reached up to her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You want to go home?”

“I do.” A ripple of amusement went through her eyes. “But how do you plan to get your Master home?”

“Well… I’m gonna have to give him a piggyback ride I guess.”

“Then let’s wait till he wakes up. There’s still plenty of time till the bar closes for the night.”

That compassion rewarded her with a warm smile. Jude slid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, his nose buried into her hair. They both knew what they were about that it made it simpler than it ever was.

* * *

Inside the soothing embrace of a young man was an unconscious girl he desired to protect. The girl’s delicate features were salt pale and her eyes were squeezed tight. Both of them lay on the dirt - which is now a rapidly expanding pool of blood.

His own sword - a short sword that he previously bought for twenty five silver coins - was stabbed deep on his back, piercing himself and the girl.

To get out of this situation would be a pipe dream and he knew it. Yet, however dim his vision had become, he wished for the girl’s safety. If she could only get out of this nightmare, he would have no problem transitioning to the afterlife.

But, as horrible as it was already, the one to caused all of this was not so nice to leave them to fate.

Just before the sinister scythe of death could claim him, chunks of what seemed to be brains and internal organs spattered on his face. The girl who clung so tightly to him was cleaved in half, spraying her gore to the young man’s face.

After the young man had suffered enough mental anguish to explode in tears, he soon suffered the same fate.

“Aaaaaaaagghhh!!”

Other than the crows that gathered to feast on their corpses, nobody else heard their cries of agony. On a quiet night illuminated by the crescent moon, two more corpses buffeted the hungry soil.