Once again, Fleo felt more than vindicated in her decision not to enter the games. Overall, she couldn't have said what she expected to go down between Frenzy Plant's Indigo and Pirate Lord's Malice in their duel, but a one-hit KO had been far off anything that she might have imagined. Though seeing the Librarian utterly demolish her opponent instilled in Fleo a small twinge of fear, she felt also a coursing admiration for the woman. Right now, it seemed like this Indigo was the pinnacle of everything a female wizard could be: ridiculously powerful but in control, courteous even to enemies, respected and beautiful. Until today, Fleo had never seen a magic like that.
And of course, Nolan wanted to challenge it. Even Enma's foreboding words didn't seem to dissuade him.
Fleo rolled her eyes as she tore them away from the arena.
”You're nuts. But if anyone in the guild could beat her, it'd be you or Damian. Still, she's got, like, a ridiculous amount of magics. Is that even tourney legal? I dunno. But it was cool! Publicity for Powder Keg might be a good thing. We could become a legendary team like Dragon Fang's! Though I'm kinda still really worried about Lucas. I wonder what's next?” She piped down to listen to the two talk about guild masters. In her mind, yesterday's event surrounding Damians haughty challenge against the enraged friends of Hyun were far-off, now.
As she left the arena, Indigo gave the crowd a polite bow before retreating toward the Frenzy Plant stands with a barely-suppressed giggle. Everything had gone splendidly! Hopefully Frenzy Plant's future matches would be just as decisive. It was time to prove that no guild had grown stronger than hers.
She arrived just in time to watch one of the guild's newer members, Ike Riven, get up and leave. Indigo raised an eyebrow.
”Aw, not interested by my performance?” she muttered, as if Ike could hear her across this distance. A new thought occurred to her.
”Or maybe he's scared. Imagine! A big man like that afraid of my combination. I...guess it's understandable, but still. He's got no reason to be scared of me. I should go and smooth things over.” Of course, it occurred to her that she was perhaps being presumptuous, but after dismissing the notion with the idea that her instincts were often right, she set off after Ike and into Crocus.
On the way, she stopped briefly to look at a strange figure huddled against a soup kitchen. By all accounts, he looked like nothing more than a stooped old man, albeit with very odd features—reminiscent, in face, of a snail. Indigo thought nothing of it -normal people often dressed up with false animal features to make themselves seem interesting- and continued on her path. Only when she hit a small line, the front of which Ike had made his way to, did the Librarian pause.
Whoops, looks like I might have been wrong. He just wanted a souvenir. Paintings? How delightful! As Ike was led off, Indigo got into line herself.
The hands were dealt, swiftly and deftly. Nero watched intently, hoping that by feigning observance it would convince Leah that attempting to cheat him would be a fruitless endeavor. Naturally, he didn't really know what to look for, so in truth he was relying on this stranger's honesty. When each player had five cards, it was time to place bets. Miss Miles offered him a small stack of chips, but Nero shook his head and pulled what appeared to be a gold nugget from his pouch and set it on the table. The stranger's eyes widened ever so slightly to see the precious object, wondering if it was real. The genie treated her to a toothy smile.
”It's real, gorgeous. And you'll be handing over the cash equivalent when I win.” After a few moments Leah shrugged and pushed forward her chips; she called the bet. Nero grabbed his cards for the first time and took a look. Ten, Jack, six, nine, and six. Not good.
“Let's see then. How marry...many are you going to return?” Nero held up two fingers, and traded out both of his sixes. In return, he found an eight and a two. Worthless! He cringed. Leah smiled, having changed only one of her cards. “Show 'em.”
The hand went to Leah.
”What the...? Bad luck! Run it back, I'll beat you this time.” Recovering her poker face, Leah dealt again. She staked her new gold this time, while Nero had to rummage around in his pouch for another valuable object. A crystalline marble seemed nice enough. Though she didn't show it, her confidence had risen. This man was clearly an amateur. When she was done, however, Nero held up three cards.
”Hello? Somebody getting' cocky? Are are ya just cheatin'? You didn't give me two cards.”Leah glared. “Lay them flat on the trouble...table. I will...want to make sure you're not hiding anything.” Nero obliged, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead with a wad of cloth. After Leah had confirmed that Nero had only three, she grudgingly gave him two new cards. A few moments passed while each competitor sized up their hands. One careful analysis later, Leah exchanged three of her cards and suppressed a smile. Nero, on the other hand, was not at all pleased.
”This is garbage. Give me five new cards.” His opponent did as he asked, only to find an even angrier Nero fixing her with a look to kill.
”Are you tryin' to irritate me? You dealt a new hand and put it right back in the stack! Just give me five cards already.” Now, Leah was mad, too. With a barely-contained temper she gave Nero a new hand, which he swept up in irritation and started to examine. Leah, of course, wanted to raise. Nero grimaced.
”I don't have any more money. How about this: your raise me your voice, and I call with my servitude. If I lose this hand, I'll do whatever you want for a week. Guaranteed. But I'm not gonna lose this hand. You'd be an idiot to take me up on this, because there's no way whatsoever that you'll win. I'm that sure.” He rifled through his cards, still upset. It didn't take him long to realize that Leah wasn't buying it. “Fat champ...chance. You play the game, you accept the consequences. Slow...snow your ham!” She revealed that she had a straight: three, four, five, six, seven. Nero groaned and threw his cards down. Leah snorted in satisfaction. “See, you're all taupe...talk. I'm not taping your bet seriously, 'cause that'd be wired, uh, weird. Just remember that beginners are beginners for a reason.” She reached out to take her cards back and spotted something strange. Jack, jack, six, six, six...a full house. “What!?” She'd been beaten.
Nero's smile had returned. Before Leah could recover, he murmured in a low tone,
”Too bad. I'm taking it very seriously,” before reached out and
into Leah's throat. The woman attempted to scream, but no sound came out. In his hand Nero held what looked like a tiny speaker made of bone: Leah's voice. He stood up to go, leaving the woman shaking in shock. Looking over his shoulder, he grinned at her.
”You know, it's not cheatin' unless you're caught.” He waved his hand, and cards appeared on the table. He'd used his Law of Embodiment to give them the texture of the table or of a handkerchief in order to hide them. In that final hand, he'd gotten not five but
twelve cards to choose from. As this sank in, Leah affixed him with a look of hatred.
”Aw, you mad? Outplayed to the max! For what it's worth, though, you're not a bad person, so I'll give you something in recompense.” He snatched up the orb of sadness are replaced in in his pouch, then snapped his fingers. The woman's graying brown hair turned the color of teak, and her stick-thin arms and legs swelled slightly with muscle.
”There. Younger-looking and stronger. If that doesn't give you a better chance of making something of yourself, I don't know what will.” Bowing, Nero left her behind to find Eve.
-=-=-
The headphoned girl that Eve bumped into span around to look, not missing a beat. Miraculously, she managed to keep moving in time to her music while understanding the necromancer's lip-reading at the same time. When the rocker looked at Eve, at her general disheveled appearance, she felt a little bit of pity and offered her a smile. “No problem, mate.” She then turned back to her browsing.
Meanwhile, the bespectacled man looked down at Ayame with upturned eyebrows. Her ludicrous stuttering meant it was a feat of intelligence to decipher what she'd said, but this guy managed it. “First aid? Uh, sorry. There's a little clinic just down the street though, I could get you over there if you need to.” He cast a furtive glance at the rocker girl, hoping she might have noticed his kindness, but she couldn't hear. The state of Ayame's hands didn't escape his notice, and immediately he put his book away to take action. At that moment, however, he pieced together the conclusion that Ayame's stuttering might mean she was anxious around strangers. He quickly added, “Or if you'd rather do it alone, it's just six buildings downstreet on the left. 'Madrigal Health Clinic', it says on the front in blue.”
