One of the stadium’s workers walked up to Gust. “You’re Gust?”

“The one and only.”

“Your fight is after this one.” The worker gestured toward the arena stage, where two people in heavy armor were bludgeoning each other, one with a two-handed hammer, one with a one-handed sword and a shield.

“Got it.”

With his task completed, the worker left. Gust, in preparation, already had his kukris hanging in sheathes attached from his waist. The hand-and-a-half sword, however, was nowhere to be seen.

He drew his kukris from their sheathes, then handed the sheathes, along with his bag, to Wesley.

“Take care of these for me, little man.”

“Mhmm.”

Meanwhile, the fighter with the two-handed hammer landed a hard hit on his opponent’s head, whose body then collapsed to the arena floor.

The stadium announcer, who’d been letting the fighting speak for itself, yelled at the top of his lungs. “And with a crushing blow, John, our veteran of the arena, with seventy-eight wins and thirty-two losses, takes down similar heavyweight, Marcus, down!

“Marcus is going to be out of commission for a while, folks! Sources are telling me that… yes, he won’t die, but he’s going to have to spend a few years to recover! Don’t worry though, we’ve got quite the battle coming for you, coming right up!”

Gust walked into the arena, where his opponent was already waiting. He looked his opponent up and down, then smiled.

His opponent's equipment couldn’t be any more standard. A short sword in his right hand, a round, wood shield in his right. As for armor, his opponent was clad in leather armor - clearly someone who prioritized speed and agility.

Gust’s only equipment were his two kukris, wearing nothing other than his normal travelling clothes.

He and his opponent stood facing each other, a few meters apart.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“Gust, you?”

“Why the hell aren’t you wearing any armor, Gust?”

“Well, I -”

“Aren’t you disrespecting this village’s fighters too much? An arrogant kid like you oughta be taught a lesson - and perhaps it’ll be your last.”

He raised his sword and pointed it at Gust’s head, then mimed slashing his own head off with it.

Gust just looked at the stadium’s announcer, and said, “I’m ready.”

“I’m ready.”, said his opponent.

“Well alright, ladies and gentlemen, we have two young, talented fighters in the arena for you today! On my right, we have Eric, the tanner’s own flesh and blood son! Hardly a newcomer to the arena, he’s garnered a respectable record with seventeen wins and eleven losses!

“On my left, we have...Gust, a newcomer! At the age of sixteen, Gust is experienced in the use of… knives! Speaking of, those are some unusual looking knives! Never seen anything of the like, myself. Anyway, he seems pretty confident, opting to fight in the arena without a shred of protection! We’ll see if this decisions comes back to bite!

“Alright, the contestants have given me their ready signals, so count down with me.”

“3”

“2”

“1”

“Fight!”

As soon as the countdown ended, Gust rushed forward with his kukris raised as high as his arms would go.

Seeing this, Eric stepped up as well and raised his shield to receive Gust’s attack. His sword was drawn back, ready to strike.

However, when Gust was only a meter away from Eric, instead of stabbing down with his knives, he fell to the ground and slid forward, knocking himself into Eric’s feet.

With his feet knocked out from under him, Eric fell face-first onto the arena floor. Before he could pick himself up, Gust had spun around, climbed on top of him, and slit his throat.

And just like that, the fight was over in a single series of moves - the audience hadn’t even had time to blink before it was all over.

“NO!”

Before the announcer could announce Gust’s victory, an anguished shout raged through the stadium.

A red-faced man had stood up and was shaking his finger at Gust. “How dare you kill my son!? Who do you think you are, you little bitch! I’ll kill you!”

With that, he aggressively marched toward the arena. However, before he could make it, several stadium guards blocked his way.

“What the hell are you doing? Get out of my way!”

“Uh, sir, unregistered fighting is not allowed in the stadium. Please return to your seat.”

“He killed my goddamn son! How am I not allowed to kill him?”

“If you really wish, you can request a fight with him in the registration office. Now please, return to your seat.”

The man glared at Gust, who was still in the arena, then stormed toward the stadium exit.

Before he could leave the stadium, however, Gust started preaching.

“You know, it wasn’t really my fault that I killed him.”

He started stripping Eric’s dead body of its leather armor.

“You see, he asked me why I wasn’t wearing any armor. I was trying to tell him that I was too poor for armor…”

Gust began to don his newfound armor.

“... but you see, he had to lecture me about some kind of respect or something, and he really looked like he wanted to kill me! But hey, turns out he was pretty kind. He gave me this leather armor for free!”

With that, he patted the dust off of his new leather armor, and proudly looked up.

“Looks pretty nice, doesn’t it?”

Eric’s father nearly coughed up blood. That armor was a set that he had personally hand-made for his son!

“We’ll settle this in the arena, boy! Don’t you fucking dare run away!”

With that, he stormed his way to the registration office.

As for Gust, he gave the stadium announcer a jaunty salute. “Hey man, aren’t you supposed to be announcing my victory sometime this year?”

“Ah… yes.” The stadium announcer coughed, embarrassed. He’d gotten caught up in the previous exchange - this Gust was just too shameless!

“Ahem, sorry about that. The stadium rookie, Gust, with newly minted record of one victory and zero losses, takes down the tanner’s son, Eric, who now has a final record of seventeen wins and eleven losses! Speaking of which, that was quite the move just now, wasn’t it!”

A murmur of assents spread through the crowd.

“Now, next up…”

As the stadium announcer prattled on, Gust returned to Wesley, who was still still sitting in the stands.

“Hey, little man. You want to keep watching, or you wanna go get my earnings?”

“Money! I’m hungry.”

“Ha."

They went to a counter near the stadium’s entrance to collect Gust’s earnings, then went to explore the village.

Gust weighed his new sack of coins in his hand, delighted. “Twenty gold coins! This’ll be enough to get us a fancy meal and roof over our heads tonight, haha. We’ll use your winnings tomorrow to buy our usual supplies though, okay?”

“So what are we eating tonight?

“Uh…”