The Rules of Blood-Volume Two ; Chapter 43 (259) - Laughing Matter
“My good man,” said a woman, clad in leather armor as she stepped in front of Blanc, blocking his way from the road, “You look like a mighty warrior indeed, your appearance surpassing the way people referred to you. Allow this one to challenge you to a proper duel.”
Velakia sighed, turning her head towards the man on her left, “How many times can this thing happen in a single day?”
“This is the fourth time today,” Blanc replied, his head shaking lightly, “It was fun at first, but we are starting to waste too much time on this.”
It was the thirty-fourth day of their journey, the fourth day in the Domain of Noble Blood Maiores. The Domain that Blanc thought was the easiest part of their journey.
A land free of any enemies, where the people living there enjoyed themselves and their lives to the full. But, perhaps due to his own lust, Blanc forgot that the land of the most elite of warriors had to train.
One of such training methods was their so-called travelling method. Which, as per its straightforward name, meant that many of the youth of Blood Maiores travelled around the Domain, challenging other warriors to a duel.
Not to win, but to learn.
As Blood Maioren taught, pain is the body's way of learning. And being beaten half to death was apparently quite the pleasing idea to most men and women present.
Regardless of the sadistic views of the youth in these parts of the Empire, Blanc and his companions should have, under normal circumstances, been safe from the travelling warriors and their continuous interference with their journey.
But in a moment of recklessness, right after Blanc went out with Velakia to buy supplies, in the middle of the town square, stood a topless man, bandages wrapped around his fists.
“The City of Sarmi is full of shit,” the man yelled, drawing everyone’s attention, “I expected more from the eighth city of the Domain, but all I see is a bunch of cowards, who all they know how to do is fuck all day, unable to scramble for the life of them.”
This sent the people in the square into a frenzy, screaming curses at the man the likes of which Blanc had not heard in a while.
“That’s a bit better, ain’t it?” the man laughed, “Now, I challenge whoever dares to a duel. Come, show me what Sarmi is really made of.”
Men and women alike, all younger than forty, scrambled to fight the man, forming a line.
One after one, they went in, charging while screaming with the ferocity the Domain was known and respected for.
Yet in less than twenty minutes, the line that had formed either kissed the pavement in defeat or fled before their turn came, realizing none could even tire the topless man. The topless man looked down, disappointed, his head lowered in quiet shame.
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Blanc and Velakia, however, were the opposite; heads tilted back, laughter spilling freely as they looked up at the sky.
In that moment, they realized that as time passed and life marched on, they had forgotten how much they needed to laugh... really laugh. Not out of politeness, not from mockery, but from something simple and absurd.
The fights were amusing, sure, but not this hilarious.
They were entertaining, but nothing that could stir laughter from the deepest parts of their gut.
What they felt wasn’t about the spectacle before them; it was their bodies releasing tension they hadn't even noticed they'd been carrying. Since their earlier conversation, both had dwelled on it, Velakia especially, quietly regretting that she’d said anything at all, though she couldn’t explain why.
So when the distraction came, they embraced it fully, paused, watched, cried from laughing, and laughed harder still, even if they didn’t know exactly why.
Though as much as it was a distraction for the two of them, for the man in the middle of the square, his whole future depended on it. Or that’s what the man thought to himself as the laughter of a man and woman reached his ears.
He looked towards them, noticing them clinging to the side of the house, trying not to collapse from how hard they were laughing.
“Hey,” the man yelled towards them, not realizing or really caring about who they were, “Are you man enough to come and duel me?”
Blanc laughed even harder at that question, tears streaming from his eyes. But at least he gave the man a reply as he moved his hands, signaling he was not interested in having such a one-sided fight.
This enraged the man to the point that he started moving towards Blanc and Velakia.
“Do it,” Velakia said, still laughing, “I want to see you get beaten.”
“Yes,” the man chuckled as he approached, “Listen to the woman and face me.”
“It will not be fair,” Blanc replied to the two with a sniff.
“That afraid, huh?” The man stopped a few feet away from him, “What if I just take your woman then? I’m sure she does not want to make a child with a man who runs away from a proper fight.”
“My woman…” Blanc muttered.
“His woman…” Velakia did the same.
The two of them turned their heads towards each other, staring.
“Pfft,” they burst in unison.
His words sent Blanc and Velakia to the ground, unable to hold onto the wall behind them; that’s how hard they were laughing.
But this sent the man berserk, as he dashed towards Blanc, who was sitting on the ground, holding his stomach.
The man lunged forward, his foot flying toward Blanc’s chest with brutal intent. Even the crowd, citizens of this very Domain, who loved violence, gasped.
The strike was excessive. Cruel.
But just before the heavy foot could crash into Blanc’s ribs, it stopped.
Dead still.
“What the?” the man grunted, trying to force it forward or yank it back.
Neither worked.
A single hand held it firm. Blanc’s hand.
“See?” Blanc said with a chuckle, wiping a tear from his eye with his free hand. “Told you this wouldn’t be fair. But oh well…”
The man barely had time to process the words before his balance vanished. His eyes turned to the sky as his footing slipped from under him.
Then...
Darkness.
He hit the pavement hard, unconscious before he even landed.
The crowd erupted, cheering for Blanc as if he were a conquering champion.
Volume Two ; Chapter 43 (259) - Laughing Matter
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