Omen: 10, 20

‘Nice,’ Adam thought, looking to his Omen.

“Are you feeling lucky today?” Sonarot asked.

“Yes,” Adam said.

“How lucky?”

“Jarot’s going to make a hundred gold.”

After a light workout, the Iyrmen and Adam’s friends had gathered together. Adam looked to the side, seeing the lack of three of them, and wondered if they were about to have as much as fun as him. 

Elder Zijin had yet to arrive, so the pair were able to stretch and warm up for their eventual bout. Kaygak was adorned in her plate mail, which was made of fairly normal steel, but the sword at her side was definitely not an ordinary sword. It was a longsword, one which was kept in a dark sheath made of gem. The hilt seemed to be made of sapphicule, though Adam wasn’t sure if the blade was also made of the material. 

“It is a shame our family sword has been lost,” Kaygak said. “Otherwise I could have shown you the true strength of our family.”

“You can make whatever excuse you like,” Adam said. “Don’t forget that I’ve become an Expert in less than a year, and you’re going all out against a baby like me.”

“You should not forget our deal,” Kaygak said. “Once you lose, you are to remain distant with our children.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Adam said. “I shouldn’t have to remind an Iyrman about the deal, but my Aunt and Elder Zijin will be here to watch.”

It wasn’t just his Aunt and Elder Zijin who would be watching, as the Elder soon arrived, with dozens of other Iyrmen. There were a large number of Devilkin, as well as Humans, and most of them were older, in their forties or older.  

‘What the…’

The Devilkin each had a red cross mark on their foreheads, followed by yellow tilted kites on their foreheads. 

Adam’s eyes fell across all the Rots and Gaks who had come to watch the fight. “What’s all this?”

“We have come to watch,” Jarot said, simply. 

Adam’s eyes fell across the Iyrmen, noting Mulrot and Sarot, who he greeted with a shake to the forearm, before noting another Iyrman around their age. 

“Tarot,” the older Iyrman said, shaking Adam’s forearm. “I have heard much about you.”

“Adam,” Adam replied, nodding his head. “I hope that it’s all been good.”

Tarot smiled. He looked very similar to Jarot and Sarot, though he had long hair which fell down his back. “Zirot, come,” he called, calling for a beautiful woman his age, who wore long braids which fell down her shoulders.

“Will you win?” Zirot asked, shaking his hand.

“Yeah,” Adam replied. ‘Right, she was a Kan.’

“Then we will bet on you,” Zirot said, flashing a smile at him. “I hear you are not interested in marrying Cirot or Sirot. How about my grandchildren?”

“I’m not interested in marrying right now, but thank you,” Adam said, trying to keep a straight face.

“A hundred gold?” Jarot asked his companion.

The older Iyrman, a Devilkin about Jarot’s age, was smoking a pipe. Her horns wound around a head like that of a ram, and she wore a longsword at her side. “He will face the full might of the Azureblade.”

“I know,” Jarot said. 

“You still wish to bet?”

“You will see for yourself why I dare to bet on my grandson.”

“Be kind to our coffers,” she said. “A bottle of our firewine.”

Jarot whistled. “Okay. I will offer a hundred gold, is that fair?” A bottle of firewine did not go for so much, but he wasn’t going to nickel and dime the Gaks, who have only received Adam’s fortune for a short while. 

She nodded her head. 

“I will bet too,” Strom said, dropping down from the roof. As he did, he found himself under the glares of at least a dozen Iyrmen, each of whom were ready to deal with the stranger. ‘Did I do something wrong?’ Strom wondered. 

“How much will you bet?” Jarot called, easing the tension in the air. 

“I will bet my Stormdrake,” Strom said, clapping his hands together, before drawing them apart, causing lightning to form between his palms before it took shape into that of a blade. It was longsword, one which looked almost the same as Azureblade which Kaygak held.

‘Yo, what the hell?’ Adam’s eyes went wide. ‘That was so cool!’

The children had been staring at him, already in awe of him due to the leap from the rooftop, but they stared up at him, mouths agape. The children charged at him, but there were several shouts in the Iyr’s tongue, causing them to stop and retreat. 

“I will bet on Adam,” Strom said. 

“Hold up,” Adam said. “Bet against me so I can win it.”

The Iyrmen did not ignore the fact that Adam was disrespecting Kaygak, but Jarot was too busy thinking about how Strom hadn’t used the sword previously. 

“I don’t like to lose.”

“Who said you’ll lose?”

“Don’t you use axes?”

“Sure, but I wouldn’t mind a new sword. I could hand it over to Jaygak, or maybe I can hand it over to someone who works for me.”

“Will anyone take the bet?” Strom asked. 

“It is too heavy a bet,” the Iyrman said, taking another puff from her pipe. 

‘I’ve never seen an Iyrman smoke before,’ Adam thought. 

“It’s only a little better than your sword,” Strom said. 

“We have nothing to match it,” the Iyrman replied. 

“I don’t need the sword.”

“If you don’t need it, I’ll take it off your hands,” Adam said. 

“If you’re able to cut her down in a single blow, I’ll hand it to you,” Strom said. “Otherwise, you will give me Phantom.”

Adam thought about it for a long while, staring at Strom. ‘How strong is she? She looks pretty tough, but her Health can’t be much more than mine, can it?’ 

“Well?” Strom asked. 

Phantom had helped him so much this far, and it was a near perfect for him, and finishing Kaygak in a single blow would be extremely difficult. 

“Okay,” Adam said. “One blow?”

“One blow,” Strom confirmed. 

“Phantom for your Stormdrake.”

Strom smiled. He had quite the keen sense for the strength of the various people, as well as the strength of the magical weapons nearby. Adam defeating Kaygak in a single blow was nearly impossible. 

Strom’s eyes fell to Kaygak. She was stronger than an Expert, that was for certain, but Strom could also sense that she was naturally strong, extremely so, and she was probably in the top percent of all Iyrmen in terms of natural strength. She was also extremely tough, about as difficult to take down as a Rage Dancer. 

‘Once I get the axe, I will trade it back for something,’ Strom thought, thinking about all the things he could trade the axe for. 

“Are you ready?” Kaygak asked once the Iyrmen had all settled down, having finished with their bets, while a boar was brought to be roasted. 

Adam looked to the side to see his little sister, who was on her mother’s lap, cuddling her. “I will give you this one chance to retreat,” Adam said. “For I have never lost in front of my sister before, and I don’t plan on doing so today.”

Kaygak remained silent. ‘I will bury him under my boot.’

Adam reached down to grab his axe, and donned his shield, clutching his die in hand. He was fairly certain he’d win, because Kaygak didn’t seem like a Rage Dancer, but he didn’t want to underestimate her and slip up. 

‘One blow.’

“Are you both ready?” Elder Zijin asked. 

‘One blow.’

“I am ready,” Kaygak said. 

‘One blow.’

“Adam?” Zijin asked.

Adam shut his eyes tight for a few moments, allowing silence to fill the Iyr. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling the clear ground beneath, the snow having been cleared so they could fight within worry.

Spells Prepared
Healing Word, Hex, Shield, Thunderous Smite, Blur, Spiritual Weapon, Revivify, Counterspell

Adam sighed. He opened his eyes and then unstrapped his shield, placing it aside, before grabbing his weapon in both hands. 

“Yes.”

“Then you may begin,” Zijin said, and someone tapped a drum. 

Battle Order
D20 + 1 = 4 (3)
Omen: 10, 20 -> 20
10 + 1 = 11

Jurot’s belt snapped, causing his axe to drop. He stared down at the belt, reaching down to pick it up, before looking back to the Iyr. 

“Are you okay?” Jaygak asked.

“Okay.”

Mana: 18 -> 17
Spell: Thunderous Smite

Attack
D20 + 8 = 9 (1)
Omen: 20 -> 0
20 + 8 = 28
Critical hit!
Mana: 17 -> 14
Phantom: 3 -> 0
2D6 + 20D6 + 4D6 + 8D6 + 7 = 120 (1, 1)(1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6)(1, 2, 3, 6)(2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5)
120 damage!

The silver egg cracked. Out from the egg appeared a creature with sparkling silver scales, looking to the other eggs nearby, covered in the snow. She crawled over towards the others and wrapped her body around them, her wing covering another.

Adam, with die in hand, chanted the words to his spell. “Might of the Storm Lord.” 

Strom raised his brows in surprise at the chant.

The Half Elf darted forward, dropping his die, and like a tiger, he pounced on the awaiting Kaygak. 

She brought her blade up, it crackling with lightning, as Adam’s axe shook with thunderous might. 

Adam slashed down across her plate mail, tearing into the metal, his axe flashing white as a thunderous explosion echoed across the Iyr. 

Kaygak dropped her sword, and fell to her knees. She swayed for a moment, before falling and landing on her front. 

Silence filled the courtyard as the thunder died down.

Lanarot stared in shock ahead of her, before she looked up at her mother. Her face contorted together and she began to cry. 

 

---

Click banner for Patreon and come join my Discord too!

---

Wait. What? She was meant to scream like a demon! Why is our precious Lanarot crying?