Tough fight

"Are you sure you want to do this? After yesterday, I'm more than willing to kill anyone who harms you, or even thinks of doing so," Threo said with a protective edge in his voice.

Rafael smiled, though his tone remained steady. "Thank you for your concern, my King, but there's no need for that. I'm confident I'll win this fight."

A small crowd had gathered behind the castle where a circular ring had been built. The morning air was frigid, evident from the heavy cloaks everyone wore and the small patches of ice that formed on the ground.

"We still have much to discuss," Threo continued. "For example, we need to decide whether we advance our troops further west or finalize the details of that balloon and smelter you showed me."

We? Rafael shot the king a side glance but said nothing. Ella walked silently beside him as they approached the ring. Icarus and Pepin stood nearby, talking with other nobles, but the moment Icarus saw Rafael and the king approaching, he left the group and marched toward them.

"My lord, it's an honor to have you here to witness me fight," Icarus declared proudly.

"Ppfff, hahaha, no," Threo laughed, waving off the notion. "I'm not here to see you fight. Rafael assured me it would be quick so we can get back to more important matters."

Icarus' lips tightened into a thin smile, though his eyes were blazing with anger. He turned to Rafael. "Well, I'm ready to start the combat. Are you?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with. I have more important things to do," Rafael replied dismissively.

A flicker of fury flashed across Icarus' face. More important things to do? Not once I'm through with you, he thought. The anger stirred deep within him, feeding off Rafael's apparent indifference.

The ring was a simple, circular area fenced by wooden posts. The crowd gathered around, murmuring with excitement. Icarus and Rafael stepped inside, taking their positions three meters apart.

"If you're that scared, I suggest you surrender now," Icarus taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Rafael tilted his head slightly, confusion in his eyes. "Afraid? Surrender? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Do you even realize how this ends?" Icarus sneered. "I've been training since I was a child. I can take down trained soldiers, and you? You're a mere merchant. A peasant." He paused, waiting for Rafael to react, but Rafael just stared at him, unimpressed.

The soldier overseeing the match raised his voice. "This combat will determine the winner of the challenge issued by Icarus to Rafael. Remember, killing your opponent is not allowed. Are you ready?"

Icarus glanced toward Ella, his smile darkening. "I see you brought that whore along to watch. You have my thanks. She'll enjoy seeing you put in your place."

Rafael's eyes narrowed. His patience snapped. "Ready," he said, his voice cold.

"Begin!" The soldier signaled the start.

Icarus raised his arms, but stayed in place, taunting further. "What's wrong? Come at me, or I'll take that little bitch for myself anyway."

Pepin, watching from the sidelines, studied the situation carefully. The information they had on Rafael was scarce, too scarce. He was an enigma. All they knew for sure was that he was a small-time merchant, though they weren't even sure from where.

And those strange clothes of his, always so clean and perfect... Who is this man? Pepin mused, casting a glance at Icarus.

Rafael, still calm, hadn't even raised his hands. "Let me ask you something," he said, stepping forward. "Did you have any part in Baron Avice's death?"

"Oh, the Baroness?" Icarus smirked, clearly enjoying the attention. "I heard she was killed by some peasant. The same one she tried to marry off to me, hahahaha! If that girl had survived, I'd have made her my servant. Would have enjoyed that—"

"I see. So, it's a yes," Rafael interrupted, a cold fury simmering in his voice. Without another word, he closed the gap between them in a flash and landed a solid punch to Icarus' stomach.

Icarus' taunting expression vanished, replaced by a look of pure shock as he doubled over in pain. Before he could process what was happening, Rafael's knee slammed into his face, sending him sprawling backward, blood pouring from his nose.

The crowd fell silent. No one could believe what they had just witnessed.

Icarus groaned, struggling to focus through the pain. What just happened? He managed to open his eyes, seeing Rafael standing over him.

Another punch landed, then another. Rafael stepped back, giving Icarus a chance to recover, though his eyes remained cold, his patience thin.

*Cough, cough* "...How dare... you!" Icarus spat, blood mixed with rage. "How dare you, you filthy peasant, hurt me?!"

Rafael didn't respond. He simply waited.

"You bastard! When I'm done with you, I'm going to take your woman and—"

Rafael's fist silenced him mid-threat. Blood now stained Icarus' clothes, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he struggled to stay on his feet. He threw a few wild punches, but Rafael dodged them effortlessly, his expression unchanging.

Icarus screamed in frustration. "Who do you think you are?!"

He kicked out in desperation, but Rafael caught his leg with ease. Before Icarus could react, Rafael twisted, sending him flying across the ring like a rag doll.

"Milord, perhaps this is enough?" one of the merchants called out to Pepin, desperation in his voice. "It's clear who the victor is."

Pepin, snapping out of his disbelief, called out, "You can stop now, Rafael. You've won."

But the crowd turned their eyes to the only person whose word truly mattered—King Threo. The king sat silent for a moment, a solemn expression on his face as he studied the situation.

Finally, Threo spoke. "The challenger has not yet yielded. The combatant can still fight." His voice was firm, allowing no room for argument. Icarus was standing up from the ground.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"This isn't a fight anymore!" someone protested.

"My decision is final," Threo said sharply, glancing at Pepin. "Remember, the only rule is that the opponent must not be killed."

With that, Rafael moved in again. This time, as Icarus tried another desperate kick, Rafael grabbed his foot and drove his elbow into Icarus' knee, bending it in the wrong direction. A piercing scream echoed through the ring.

A final punch to the jaw sent Icarus crashing to the ground, unconscious, his face bloodied and two teeth missing.

The soldier raised his arm. "The winner is Sir Rafael. He was challenged and won fairly. Let the clergymen tend to Icarus."

As Threo announced the victory, murmurs spread through the crowd. Some, particularly those who had backed Icarus, were still in shock, unwilling to accept what they had just witnessed. But the truth was undeniable.

Rafael leaped over the fence, his body untouched, and was met with a tight embrace from Ella.

"Amazing, Rafael. Truly, you are a remarkable fighter," Threo said, approaching with a broad grin. "I had no idea you were so skilled."

"Thank you, my lord," Rafael replied modestly. "It was a tough fight."

His comment earned a few glares from those in disbelief. Threo, however, burst into laughter.

"Tough? Ahahaha! You destroyed him! This will be remembered for a long time." The king led them back toward the castle, leaving Icarus broken and unconscious in the ring, and many shaken by what they had witnessed.