The lengthy oath-taking finally ended. The two men stood at opposite corners of the arena, waiting for the referee's signal.
Even before they entered the arena, the swordsman named Worit had been glaring fiercely at him. The hostility in his eyes left Renato all the more bewildered.
Had the Wolf Gang hired him to cause trouble? He quietly raised his guard.
"You've had such good luck, Constable. Every match ended in a single round. You've made it this far without breaking much of a sweat, haven't you?"
Renato ignored the sarcasm and asked bluntly:
"Do I know you?"
Worit's expression froze. His grip on his sword tightened, and he said through gritted teeth:
"You must have too much on your mind to remember a nobody, Constable. Just a week ago, at the Blacksmiths' Guild registration desk, you were chatting away at your leisure while I was 'invited' to leave..."
"I, Walter, remember your face perfectly."
So his name was Walter. Renato remembered now. He was the swordsman who had stirred up trouble in front of Master Wolfram and then been thrown out.
Moron. That was Renato's assessment of him.
Not bothering to explain, he lowered his visor and raised a hand to the referee, signaling that he wanted to begin.
With the clack of the hourglass being turned over, their duel began.
Seeing his opponent clutch both swords in anger, Renato felt even more disappointed.
Amateur. He added another assessment of Walter.
Although Renato knocked Walter down in just one round, his match had been scheduled late, so it was nearly noon by the time he finished.
The young Mage had gone to Brekka Town on a mission, and Kira had headed to the Assassins' Guild to help sell off the stolen goods. Without their greetings, all Renato received