svetikya Chapter 18 Trial by Combat
Chapter 18 Trial by Combat
"Trial by combat," Jon Snow said arrogantly. "I demand trial by combat!"
"With whom?" Jules asked.
"Him!" Jon raised his finger and pointed at Tiberius.
"Hey, Jon, are your eyes glued shut by rotten fish and shrimp from Bloodwave Point? Want to get a doctor to take a look?" Vito immediately launched into taunts. "Look at this! This is a twelve-year-old kid! You, an old man, fighting with a child? Have you no shame?"
"But you just said he's a man, so what? Is the word of the 'Keeper of Faith' unreliable?"
"Or is this kid really here to sell his ass?" Jon made another lewd joke, but the White Legion members couldn't laugh.
"You..." Vito was speechless for a moment, but he was so angry by his words that he was about to lash out when Jules stopped him.
"I will become my nephew's acting knight. And you? Will you go yourself, or will you find someone to replace you, so that your noble sword won't be stained with your own blood!"
"Of course it's myself!" Jon drew his longsword.
Jon Snow's sudden proposal of a trial by combat was not a whim, but a last resort due to the current circumstances.
[Although that girl certainly doesn't seem like Lisandro's mistress, what if she is! Even if she's not his mistress, she's probably one of Lisandro's trusted slaves. After all, coming to a dangerous place like Bloodwave Cape... if she were really killed here, that would be a real problem, especially with Miss Serafina watching right there.] Jon calculated in his mind.
[And, if we were to really break off relations here now, although we outnumber them, Jules' men are all battle-hardened mercenaries. Even if we win, it will be a Pyrrhic victory for me; these men are all my trusted men. If we really lose them, my job as "vice-commander" will truly be over!]
Yes, that's why Jon Snow suddenly proposed a trial by combat.
Because trial by combat is a widely accepted tradition where the winner takes all and the loser goes hungry. Even if Zera and Serafina told Lisandro the truth, Lisandro would never have his prize money deducted.
"Uncle, don't fight him," Tiberius tugged at Jules' sleeve, trying to dissuade him.
"What?" Jules frowned. "If I'm not going, are you going?"
Tibbs nodded slightly.
"Yes, Uncle, it's me. To put it bluntly, even if you defeat Jon Starr, his men will still relentlessly pursue you, demanding some benefits from us."
"But that's not a reason for you to fight." Jules said coldly, almost scolding his nephew. "You're only twelve years old. How can you fight him? Tiberius, you are indeed smart, and you've even killed people. But the difference in strength between you and Jon in the arena is ridiculously large. In the arena, skill and strength are what truly matter."
"Uncle, believe it or not, his so-called 'trial by combat' isn't actually for the sake of fairness. I suspect he'll definitely resort to underhanded tactics. Because he and his men will absolutely not let their easy victory slip away!"
"So..." Jules frowned.
"So, even if you win, they'll deny it outright, and might even turn on us. How will you lead the White Legion then, wounded? With your command and skill, our White Legion might achieve a Pyrrhic victory, but if you're injured… well, I doubt you'll survive. In that case, I might as well go." Tiberius shrugged. "I'll fight Jon; my injury is better than yours."
"Shut up, kid! Your father told me to take care of you, not to have you duel with someone right now!"
"My father also didn't want to see his brother die in a senseless duel, taking his son with him."
Jules lowered his head and then let out a soft laugh.
"You sharp-tongued brat...you've really impressed me. Don't worry, I'll get Vito to load the bowstring, and if things don't work out, Jon will have an extra bolt in his eye socket."
"I thought you would be concerned about your reputation as a 'trustworthy person'..." Jules' words surprised Tiberius.
"'The Keeper of Faith'... Ha!" Jules scoffed, a cold, hard smile curving his lips. "...Just a title, to hell with it! Compared to the lives of your blood relatives, all honors are secondary. Without a family, who will sing your story and legend? Even your infamy!"
"So don't worry." Jules patted him on the shoulder. "Go on, I'll get Vito all ready. Play well, don't throw points!"
"OK."
Then Tiberius stepped forward and shouted.
"I challenge you to a duel, First Mate Jon." Tiberius deliberately emphasized the word "First Mate."
"You brat, are you out of your mind?" Jon laughed. "Let your uncle beat you up! Go back to selling your ass!"
"Are you scared?" Tiberius retorted.
"Afraid? I'm afraid you'll end up with so much dermatitis you can't even hold your poop!" Jon's anger was ignited by Tiberius's words, and his face turned red. He then suddenly drew his sword.
"Kid, since you're so eager to die... then come on! But don't worry..." A sinister smile suddenly appeared on his face. "After you die, I'll have my brothers give your virgin ass a good thrashing while it's still hot, so you won't be lonely on your way to the underworld!"
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"Do you need a countdown?" Tiberius picked up a javelin, weighed it, and then planted it in the ground, along with the other two javelins.
Tippill was unusually calm at this moment. He seemed to be asking Jon what he planned to have for breakfast, a demeanor that earned him the admiration of the White Legion knights.
It seems that our little battalion commander is not only resourceful, but also very brave!
This greeting enraged Jon Starr. He watched as Tiberius planted a spear into the ground, alongside an iron-clad oar, standing upright on the flat ground. He then spoke sarcastically:
"Stop talking nonsense, brat." Starr, with the help of his squire, donned his heavy breastplate and then his barrel helmet. "You'd better take care of your nice head, because it'll be chopped off by my sword in a moment!"
In his view, he was as sure as he could possibly be.
Tiberius was indeed a clever, cunning, and extremely shrewd little devil. He even solved the Bloodwave Cape mystery using a so-called fishing method. According to Jules, he also seemed to have killed someone.
But in the end, he's just a twelve-year-old brat.
And what about himself? He had fought his way up from various wars, rising through the ranks to become the deputy commander of the second son regiment, a position he earned through bloodshed.
Therefore, Jon believed that he would win the duel with Tiberius unless a Targaryen dragon suddenly appeared behind him!
"Are you sure you don't need to countdown?" Tiberius asked one last time, his tone serious.
"Stop talking nonsense, kid..."
Before he could finish speaking, Tiberius's javelin was already in front of him!
[Damn it, this brat has no sportsmanship!] Jon cursed inwardly, then quickly raised his shield.
As a veteran mercenary, he could tell at a glance just how ferocious Tiberius's spear throw was.
If he hadn't been experienced enough to raise his shield, the spear would likely have struck his throat, perhaps even breaching his chainmail.
"Duh!"
With a muffled thud, the sharp tip of the javelin pierced the leather-covered wooden shield.
"Damn brat, you just wait!" Jon threw his shield, pierced by the javelin, onto the sand. He wasn't pleased that he had blocked the javelin; instead, he was furious.
However, he feigned his fury more out of an attempt to frighten Tiberius. As a veteran mercenary, he knew very well that battlefield newbies like Tiberius were easily intimidated.
To his disappointment, Tiberius seemed to have seen through his bluster, his expression remaining unchanged. He then raised his second javelin, this time sending it flying straight at Tiberius's torso.
Jon saw Tiberius throw his javelin through the narrow observation port of his barrel helmet, then quickly crouched down.
Unfortunately, because he was wearing a barrel helmet, which limited his vision, the javelin hit his helmet directly with a piercing sound.
[Plan succeeds!] A cold smile flashed across Tiberius's lips.
For this spear throw, he used his title bonus: Lightning!
Yes, I added lightning to the spears!