Chapter 17: Sparring (I)
However, Rutteo chose only one merchant to visit. They entered a stone shop hidden between the alleys of the main street. Weapons were spread out behind the windows on the walls, bladed weapons, and some firearms Dante had heard a lot about from his father.
They were medium to long-range weapons that fired bullets. A step up from the bow.
"Don't touch anything," Dante said, approaching the empty counter. "Hey, Dimitri. You here? I brought you an old man like you."
"Old man?" The voice came alarmingly from the back. Then a laugh. "Is he from the Upper Echelon? Tell him to get out of my shop."
Rutteo pointed inside, amused.
"Look," he said to Dante, still pointing. "He's a Recruit, Dimitri."
The sound of hammering stopped. Heavy footsteps approached. A man the size of a door emerged, with broad arms like Dante's and a thick beard. His eyebrows furrowed, and he was chewing something.
"Recruit?"
Dante nodded.
"I arrived a few days ago. I'm Dante."
"Dimitri."
They shook hands. The shopkeeper stared at Rutteo.
"What are you doing with this old guy? It's enough I have white hair."
"Dante needs money. He's a good warrior." And he showed his fist, making a bit of a face. "One of those you need in a good fight. I heard when I came back that you lost your golden-punch kid to one of the Commanders. So, I brought you a Recruit. He's still green. Doesn't know anything around here yet, only what Dalia explains."
"Wow." Dimitri pulled a chair for himself. Even sitting, he was huge. "I really lost Rubbem, but he didn't stop fighting. He chose a Commander to sponsor him in the fights, but I was left with nothing. He took everything I gave him, even the equipment."
Rutteo put his hand on Dante's shoulder and winked.
"Dante here fights without weapons. Of course, you can make him fight, if you want. Want to test an old man and impress the sponsors?"
"Oh, Rutteo." Dimitri scratched his neck, looking uncomfortable. "After what they did to me, I didn't even want to go back there. Fights bring money, and Commanders like to keep them because there are always bets. The thing is, I'm tied up. How do I know this guy won't do the same?"
"Are you comparing me to some bratty kids?" Dante asked. "I have no idea what these fights are, but if you're willing to pay me, I'm in."
"Even if I pay you, the money doesn't come from me, it comes from how well you fight. It's continuous rounds, they announce you, and you keep going until someone takes you down." Dimitri tapped his forehead a few times and pointed at Dante. "You know Ashi Du?"
"Yes."
"And Ariado Tse Te?"
"Yes."
Dimitri stared at Rutteo.
"You have no idea what this is, do you?"
Rutteo shook his head, as if it were obvious.
"I'm not a good fighter. But, since you're lining up, I'll leave Dante here. I have to see the two Ladies."
Dimitri smiled to the side and shook his head at him.
"You never learn, Rutteo. Be careful, my friend."
The Officer left through the door, waving, leaving them behind. Dimitri gestured for Dante to come in. The two went into the shop. Inside, the space was much larger, filled with stacked weapons, stored and shielded, also propped up and secured to the wall.
Dimitri pointed to a bench, and they sat facing each other. He scratched his nose and adjusted his beard.
"I'll be honest, even if you know the art of fighting and do this as a Recruit, there's a lot that goes into these fights. Even Dalia once participated but decided to quit before making a name. It's something that lifts people's spirits, everyone outside loves to watch, and there's a commercial audience for it."
"Would that be the sponsors?"
"Yes."
Dimitri stretched out and grabbed a bowl of soup. He handed one to Dante, along with a cup of wine.
"You can eat, I just made it." The two took a spoonful. "I haven't had any since the kid left. I don't blame him, he has a good career ahead. But, he took a very special weapon from me. It was made by my grandfather almost a hundred years ago, and I couldn't get it back from the Commander."
Dante understood. If he lost one of his father's weapons, he'd feel the same.
"Is he still using it?"
"Yes. There's a test training today. That's where I'm going to enlist you. Got any combat clothes left? I can fit you in and see how you do. Depending on how you perform, I'll put you in a fight tonight. You should earn a couple of silver coins for each one you win, and there are bets."
Dante drank the wine, it was sweet. Quite good, actually. He had never tasted this kind in the village.
"Are you going to bet on me?"
"No, I never bet. I quit that life a few years ago. Nowadays, I get people to bet on my advice, and they pay me. I just need you to understand that in these fights, you can use your skills, but never to kill the other."
"I have no intention of killing anyone," Dante said, smiling. "Rutteo brought me here to make money. If that's all, I can do it. And it will be good, I need to train with real people. It's been hard to find time for myself."
Dimitri nodded. He placed the bowl aside and extended his hand to Dante.
"This is a temporary business. We won't fight forever. But for an old man like me to an old man like you, it's a pleasure to meet you, Dante."
Their hands shook. Dante smiled too.
"The pleasure's mine, Dimitri."
"Alright, here's the deal." Dimitri grabbed Dante by the shoulders. "In this ring, it's you and him. That's it. Don't focus on the bets or the money. Focus on the training you're doing because the guy out there is tough."
The ring was raised, with chairs and benches scattered around. It was a closed environment with a light above, focusing only on the center. When Dante stepped in, he felt excited. He was practically ready to duel against someone for pure pleasure.
Back in the village, his father never let him participate in any kind of test or competition. For Render, competing was a waste of time. Battles were meant to be fought so one side would lose completely; he never liked to see his son involved.
Dante had put on the battle gear Dimitri had prepared, along with a glove to soften his blows.
"He's been winning four or five people every two nights," Dimitri explained. "Don't let him catch you off guard. His skill is to camouflage his strike; he can make you feel the Cosmic Energy on one side and attack from the other. That's all I know."
Dante nodded and raised his fists. Dimitri clapped his hands with Dante's and sent him to the middle.
"Calton," someone called from the other side, "you have a meeting with Officer James in thirty minutes. We can't delay."
"Alright, got it."
Calton walked to the center and raised his hand to Dante.
"This is the signal we can start." He waited for Dante to tap and took a step back. "I know you're new, but my boss said I couldn't go easy on you. I know you're older and all, but if you can, don't fall right away. I've got a fight tonight, I wanted to warm up better than last time."
Dante stepped back as well.
"Wasn't your training good?"
"The guy fell with two hits." Calton shrugged. "I wish I could be hit every once in a while. Just do your best, Mr. Dante."
Just wanted to be hit? What kind of upbringing did this kid have to think things were so casual? Dante didn't hide his distaste for those words and raised his fists close to his face.
When the bell rang, Calton jumped with a punch and kicked straight. Dante dodged by simply tilting his body to the side, still staring at the boy's wide-eyed gaze. And climbed on the dry hook.
The impact echoed in his ribs. Calton fell, rolling and holding the affected spot. He groaned and spat saliva on the floor. Dante scratched his head and looked at Dimitri, who was wide-eyed.
Shit, I didn't even use the skill.
"Should I have gone easier, Dimitri?"
"No." Calton had managed to stand up and was breathing heavily. "I let my guard down. I thought you were just another guy who wanted to fight."
His arm trembled a little, and he grimaced.
"I think…" Calton fell back to the floor, sitting and holding the pain with a difficult expression. "I don't think I can continue."
Dante swallowed hard. He moved forward.
"Sorry, it wasn't intentional. I thought, since you said you wanted to be hit, I could go a bit harder."
The soldiers climbed into the ring to help the boy. They lifted him and applied gel to the affected spot. Calton didn't leave, though.
"Mr. Dante." He raised his hand. "If you can, I'd like to train with you again."
"Of course, of course. And I'm sorry again. I know you had a fight tonight."
Calton laughed.
"It doesn't matter. I found something more fun today."
And, carried, he left. Dante felt sorry. He had ruined the kid's day. So young. But the hit he landed wasn't even that strong. He had just rotated his body, swinging his shoulders and back. At most, a body twist that landed harder.
Or… the kid had a weak body.