Chapter 17 - 09: Martial Contest (3)
"What did he say?"
"Nothing," Yilin casually replied, sitting back in her seat, her expression utterly stoic as she stared at the "giant" roaring in the middle of the arena.
Abi Robbs shot Gray a glance from afar.
...
"Pas, you're up!" Huoersi yelled.
Sighing deeply, Pas rose slowly from his chair, stretching out as he muttered, "Figures."
Gray looked at him, puzzled.
Glancing at Gray briefly, Pas whispered, "When Mike went up earlier, I already knew I'd be next. It's pretty obvious—Mike excels in foot combat. Huoersi wants the other side to send out their foot combat specialist. That way, they'll choose foot battles, and since most of us mercenaries only specialize in foot combat, it gives us the advantage. But at the same time, he's fine with us being sacrificial. Quite clever, really... Ha ha ha. At the end of the day, even when we fight for the same side—nobles are nobles, and commoners are still commoners."
"Do you think if I manage to pull it off, she'll keep her promise?"
"Probably... if you actually pull it off."
With that, Pas hopped over the fence, drawing two curved blades as he strode toward the middle of the arena.