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Firebrand - Chapter 110

Published at 12th of April 2024 06:39:40 AM


Chapter 110: Equine Parentage

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Chapter 110: Equine Parentage

Equine Parentage

Martel sat in Master Fenrick's class, his mind stuck on a particular question. Finally, he raised his hand.

He could not tell if his teacher was exasperated that he always had something to ask irrelevant to the current subject, or delighted that he had something to ask. Perhaps both.Ñøv€l--ß1n hosted the premiere release of this chapter.

"Yes?"

"Master Fenrick, how can you detect if someone has magical abilities? In case they are trying to keep them hidden, that is."

"For this, we have turned to our neighbours. For some reason, Asterian mages have never developed such a method. Perhaps because, as we simply copied our neighbours, we never had need for our own."

"But what are they?"

"Our southern friends in Sindhu have, naturally, a complex mixture made from alchemy. Sprinkle it over any person or indeed any item, and the powder will ignite into sparkling bits of light. Very reliable, and useful as it can be used both on people and objects."

Martel remembered the gambling establishment, being exposed to such a powder. "What's the other?"

"One of the Tyrian runes has the ability to light up when in contact with magic, though I believe it only works on people. Due to their rather different understanding of magic, it might not always react either as we expect, or it might be easy to draw in a wrong manner, thereby ruining the effect."

The question of how to counter these effects burned at the tip of Martel's tongue, but it felt a suspicious thing to ask. He considered raising the topic with Mistress Rana, who surely would know all about Sindhian powder, as long as he could do it in an innocuous way. As for the runes, perhaps the library possessed a book. Not that Martel intended to try his hand at gambling again; but being able to hide his magic seemed useful, and since it certainly would have been once already, he at least wanted to know more about it. Pushing the topic from his mind for now, he turned his attention back on Master Fenrick's lecture.

"Fortunately, that is not a concern for me. I will see you in there for the fight, I suppose." Maximilian slapped his friend on the shoulder and continued down the street towards the front entrance of the tavern.

Martel watched him leave. He knew it was best they entered separately anyway, but Maximilian sitting at the bar, drinking and having a good time, made him feel a little abandoned. Finally, he left the thoroughfare, walking through the back alleys to enter unnoticed.

~

After letting Tibert know of his arrival, Martel waited in the same room as his first fight. This time, when the boy appeared with a flagon of ale, Martel waved him away.

Tibert appeared through the other door. "You're up, Stallion."

Martel groaned inwardly, made sure his mask sat tight, and walked out to the fighting ring.

As before, crowds filled the entire space. Last time, Martel had been so anxious, he had not really taken it all in. The noise alone had seemed to overpower his other senses. This time, he took better note of how many balconies rose up the walls, and just the smell of so many people tightly packed together.

The throng parted to grant access, and he climbed down into the pit. Moments later, he was joined by his opponent for the evening. A man with hefty girth, looking like he weighed twice as much as Martel, even if a head shorter. He bared his teeth. "I'm going to bite your fingers off and stuff them down your mouth hole," he declared with an intense look in his eyes, following up with an imaginative insult concerning horses and Martel's parentage.

Martel stared with wide eyes. It had been his clear impression that mutilation was not part of the fights. Or was the only guarantee that they did not fight to the death?

Thinking about his last fight, how superior Lothar had seemed, Martel fervently hoped he would be allowed to surrender rather than lose any digits, should defeat be imminent.

From a balcony above, Tibert raised his hands. Two staves were thrown into the pit; Martel picked up his.

"Fight!"




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