Chapter 129: Healing Capitalism (Part 3)

Although Henrik was revived soon after, Stormwatch Sentinels could not recover from the loss of three towers simultaneously. They lost, despite being the odds’ favorite. And since Nicholas did not hear anything from their Guild Master or the First Officer, he understood that they did not want him around anymore.

At least that’s what I want to believe, he-he.

Two hours after the tournament ended, Nicholas changed into his best cloak made of yeti’s fur, white and fluffy, something too scandalous for the soft-spoken Raven, and crossed the streets of downtown Sirberlin. He then reached a crowded and noisy bar with an animated green goblin at the entrance flipping everyone off. The sign read: ‘Goblin’s Malice’.

Inside, the familiar odor of alcohol and smoke reached his nostrils. Virtual screens floating five feet above every table showed a reel of that night’s match. Every single clip featured Crimson Covenant, the winners, looking like professional bullies destroying their competition.

Nicholas got to the counter, asked for a beer and chuckled at the video of Henrik getting his ass handled by a certain gun. “Cheers, mate,” he toasted and gulped his drink. It was only a matter of time until the winners made themselves heard from their place. Thunderous laughter filled the place as a clip of Henrik getting pinned to the ground by Crimson Covenant’s carry was featured, followed by a short video of Raven getting frozen.

Yup… Laugh at Raven’s expense too. I’m totally okay with that.

After asking for a second beer that got charged automatically into his account, he walked directly to the center of the bar where the Crimson Covenant guild were celebrating. Nicholas spotted the Guild Master immediately, a buffed guy dressed in an elegant white full suit, with short black hair and a squared-shaped jaw that seemed to be as sturdy as any shield.

Nicholas made sure that his own coat did not have any stains before walking towards him. Naturally, two guilders cut his path.

“I toast for the winners of the Emberforge Trials, and the soon-to-be winners of the next Inferno Summer Cup!” Nicholas exclaimed holding his bottle of beer aloft, he then made a short bow while a guilder informed something into the Guild Master’s ear.

“The Stormwatch Sentinels’ healer, eh?” the Guild Master, snickered. “You’re a Temp, aren’t you? Is your contract with them due? Don’t tell me you’ve come to beg me for work, because, who’d hire you when you couldn’t even maintain your carry alive!”

Nicholas waited until the expected crowd laughter died down to take another two steps forward. He could even feel the other guilders around him tense up. As if they were expecting me to do something stupid.

“Come on. Can you really blame me for trying, Mr. Lefevre?” Nicholas said as he scanned all the faces around him until finding someone that looked remotely sick. He strolled to that guy slowly. “And besides… The Stormwatch Sentinels didn’t lose because of the lack of healing. You won because you overwhelmed them.”

With that said, Nicholas patted the guilder’s shoulder, whose face looked almost as green as a frog. Those nearby saw the moment Nicholas’ palm emitted light and grasped their concealed weapons, but the Guild Master did not give the order to retaliate. He only observed the scene with a hint of amusement in his expression.

The guilder by Raven’s side blinked repeatedly and laughed. “He got rid of my drunkenness…” He turned to his Guild Master. “I felt like puking any moment now, but not anymore!”

As soon as another guilder asked Nicholas to do the same to them, he knew he was in.

“What was your name again, Temp?” the Guild Master asked.

Nicholas grinned. “Just call me Raven!”

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Word that ‘Raven,’ the Temp healer contracted by the Stormwatch Sentinels, was having a good time among the members of the Crimson Covenant, spread fast. It only took half an hour for the Stormwatch Sentinels to gather outside the Goblin’s Malice before marching inside in solidarity. Friedrich, their Guild Master, a man always seen with a wide grin and a friendly smile on his face, looked livid that night. Everyone in the bar could see a vein popping on his forehead as he led his guild directly to the spot where the Crimson Covenant were laughing and toasting.

“I see that you found a new guild quite fast, Raven!” Friedrich said out loud, his face looking as red as a tomato. “Or could it be that you were part of their payroll from the very start?!”

The entire bar went silent, and all the gazes pointed at the Crimson Covenant’s Guild Master, expecting a response.

The man narrowed his eyes. “What the hell are you babbling about?”

“You heard me right, Jovan!” Friedrich yelled. “We checked the footage, and something weird was going on as soon as you started that coordinated attack mid-match! I don’t know what this bastard did…” He pointed at Raven. “But he sabotaged our towers and our Carry’s armor and health beforehand!”

Jovan Lefevre did not even glance at Nicholas once for his glare had started to glow intensely. “What are you trying to say, Fried?” Jovan said in a menacing tone as he rose from his seat. “I can’t catch what you’re implying…”

“YOU CHEATED!” Friedrich barked. “We were the favorites to win this goddamn tournament! There is no chance in hell that you’d have bested us without cheating!”

“All I see is a bunch of sore losers that can’t stand defeat,” the Crimson Covenant’s carry hissed, a female cryomancer that stood up before the rest of the guild.

“Friedrich, pal!” Raven took the word after sipping from his pi?a colada. A smirk adorned his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about! We all did our best during that match, as always. But sometimes–!”

It happened in a second. An arrow pierced Raven’s chest. That area gradually turned red, staining his pristine robe.

Raven fell.

A System Warning popped up but got ignored as the two rival guilds clashed without a second thought. Thanks to the Safe Zone’s restrictions, the skirmish was not as chaotic as the previously seen in the arena a couple of hours later, and yet, despite all the participants having their stats cut in half, it became a bloodbath in a matter of seconds.

The bar owner hid behind the counter, sipped from a bottle of vodka, and sighed annoyed. “Guilders…” She then watched someone crawling to her side, with a pained expression on his face.

“Can I have a sip of that?” Raven asked, looking pale. The woman handed him the bottle and stared at the arrow still adorning his chest.

“So… ‘Raven’…

I was looking forward to your speech. You seemed to be saying something very profound. But it’s okay, seeing you getting shut up was fun too.”

Raven crossed eyes with the black-haired woman as he gulped. “Whatever,” he muttered as he pulled the arrow out and tossed it aside. Then, put his palm against his chest and magically closed the wound.

The woman observed the process in silence. “That was a very nice cloak.”

“It’s a counterfeit,” he said while changing clothes with the help of his User Interface, swapping the cloak for a black button shirt and plain jeans. Then, placing his palm against his face, he seemed to yank his own skin at first until removing an oval mask. Behind the disguise was a redhead male in his late thirties, with eyes of the color of the amber gemstone that seemed to sparkle with chaotic energy. The woman also observed the exact moment Nicholas’ arms and chest inflated, leaving the lanky Raven finally behind. “This is more like it! Do you have something for me, doll?”

She input something on her User Interface, and a virtual window popped up in front of him. “There… 688k.”

“Ah! If there’s something I adore about competitive PVP, it’s its betting scene!”

“I took the liberty to subtract 50k from your cut. You know, for this place’s repairs. Unless you want to stay another day and help me restore everything.”

Someone’s head crashed loudly against the counter, before getting dragged into the mayhem again.

Nicholas winced. “Nah. I prefer paying up. The Germoria region has lost its luster already. And now that I’m done with this ‘quest’, my free spirit is yelling at me to move on!”

“Or better said, you need to stay out of the limelight for a while,” the woman muttered, rolling his eyes.

Nicholas rose, put his hands on his hips, and took a deep breath as if he was smelling the fresh air of a new morning, although what was actually around him was the stench of blood and alcohol. “I’m going to miss you, Brigitta. Too bad it’d have never worked out between us.”

“Because I’m lacking animal ears?” she scoffed with a bitter smile. “Not that I care, but where would you go now?”

“I don’t know.” He exhaled before effortlessly dodging a chair coming his way. “Somewhere calm. Without stress. Where I can also amuse myself…”

A beeping sound alerted him about receiving a new message. He squinted at the sender for a moment before opening it. As he read, a smile crossed his face.

———————

Marissa: Uncle Nick! It’s been a while, huh? Do you have plans for the weekend?

———————-

He chuckled. “Brigitta… I think I already have a destination.”

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