Chapter – 40 I’m the Boss
I’m the Boss
Brutus’s brow furrowed. Joel’s words struck a chord of terror in Daniel and the others.
“Master, I want to withdraw from the tournament this year! Let’s go back!” Joel’s voice quivered, his eyes welling with tears. The traumatic experience he had undergone days ago haunted him like a haunting nightmare.
He had always boasted of his unparalleled talents and remarkable martial prowess. He hadn’t faced defeat since he made his name known.
Yet, on that fateful night, he had encountered two monstrous beings.
The first, a woman who had thrashed him mercilessly with a teacup until he spewed blood.
The second, a man even more terrifying, nearly crushing the life from him with his bare hands.
Since that night, his self-assurance and pride had been obliterated. He felt as if an ominous specter loomed over him.
Consequently, upon spotting Dustin, he was driven to flee, irrespective of his pride.
“Don’t fret, Joel. What happened that night could’ve been a fluke. It’s possible your perceptions deceived you.”
Brutus attempted to reassure Joel before exchanging a knowing look with Daniel. “Dan, assist Joel in changing into dry clothes. Prepare a cup of hot tea for him as well, it might steady his nerves.”
“Of course.” Daniel offered his aid to Joel, whose legs still quivered, leading him towards a nearby courtyard villa.
“Mr. Grint, your disciple has proven quite disappointing,” Conrad Melling remarked, his expression dark and disapproving. He made no attempt to hide his disdain.
“I’ve likely not imparted the best teachings to him. My apologies, Sir Melling.” Brutus responded with an awkward smile.
“Don’t trouble yourself. The tournament will proceed without him. In any case, victory is certain for us this year.” Conrad dismissed the matter with indifference.
Their remaining three contenders were all stronger and superior to Joel. Their success was almost guaranteed.
“Who’s next?” Conrad’s gaze shifted to the three remaining Glenstead candidates.
Among them were two men and one woman. The lady concealed her visage beneath a mask, her robust and fit physique exuding an air of wildness.
The other men comprised a brawny figure wielding a broadsword and a pale, gaunt man who appeared unwell.
“I’ll step up!” Alan Barnes, the burly man, advanced with unwavering confidence. “I’ll dispatch that fellow with a single sweep of my sword!”
“That opponent appears male, and I specialize in confronting men. Allow me to take this challenge,” the masked lady, Lexi Sutton, declared as she came forward.
Then, Torres Dale, the frail man, coughed softly before saying, “I hold the highest rank among us three. Thus, I believe I’m best suited for the task.”
Aware that this was the final match of the day, they recognized that the victor would reap substantial rewards, fame, and renown. Consequently, they vied to be the one chosen for the concluding bout.
“Hey, Sicko, you’re at death’s door. Spare yourself and rest,” the masked lady scoffed, adding, “And you, Big Guy, might be strong, but you lack agility. If the opponent proves nimble, you won’t land a hit. I’m the optimal choice for this confrontation!”
“Ha! You do realize that sheer power can vanquish any adversary, right? Irrespective of his tricks, my sword can deflect them!” Alan boasted.
“I might be unwell, but that doesn’t equate to weakness. I hold the seventh rank among the Heavenly Immortals, which should suffice as testament,” Torres murmured, his handkerchief masking his mouth.
“You two gents can’t bear the notion of facing a lady, can you?” Lexi frowned.
“Don’t blather! Tournament opportunities are scarce. I aim to attain fame and reputation!” Alan appeared resolute in not backing down.
“I possess but a few years left. Allow me this final glimmer of glory, I implore you both.” Torres coughed into his handkerchief.
“No! I insist on participating!”
“Nonsense! I should be the chosen one!”
“Coincidentally, I’m inclined to partake as well.”
The trio engaged in a public squabble regarding who should undertake the match.
The Knighthood Society tournament occurred only once every three years, offering a rare occasion to display their prowess. None were willing to relinquish this opportunity.
“Hey!” A nonchalant voice rang out suddenly from a distance.
“I must say, the three of you arguing is rather tedious. Why not combine your forces and take me on together?”
