Chapter 17: The Bet and the Betrayal
Selena stood at the sidelines, her eyes filled with concern as she watched the exchange unfold. She had been trying to convince Asher to back down, but he was determined to follow through on the challenge. His pride wouldn't let him back out of a bet with one of the top 10 strongest in the continent.
"Please, Asher, you need to cancel this. It's not too late," Selena pleaded, but her words fell on deaf ears.
Behind them, the nobles were already whispering among themselves, mocking Asher's arrogance. They saw his refusal to back down as a sign of either foolishness or a grand mistake. "Even his slaves are begging him to cancel it. How arrogant."
But Asher only smiled. He had anticipated all of this. He knew this fight, this display of courage, would only add to his growing legend. What they didn't understand was that everything was going according to plan.
As the nobles spoke, Asher held back his laughter. They had fallen for his trap once again. He knew the King had been watching his every move, taking note of his interactions with the Queen and how he will slow the jealous nobles to choose his prize. Now, all that was left was for Asher to play his part it was a gamble .
Acting like the arrogant youth they believed him to be, while in reality, he was weaving his own path to power.
"! Hmhmhmhahahh He let out a hearty laugh before quickly silencing it.
My apologies, nobles. I was just so thrilled by the opportunity you've granted me to fight one of the continent's top 10!" he said, bowing mockingly.
The crowd's murmurs grew louder, but Asher remained unfazed.
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Soon, Asher was led to the luxurious arena, designed for only the most important of battles. The high walls, lavish seats for the nobles, and the elegant décor contrasted with the tension in the air. All the prominent nobles and top fighters had come to watch, their eyes gleaming with excitement and curiosity.
Mr. Azazel, the opponent in this duel, stood opposite Asher, a tall figure exuding confidence. He was one of the strongest, a man who had built his reputation over years of being an unyielding force in battle.
"Not bad for a kid," Azazel said with a smirk. "I like your courage. Let's see how long it lasts."
Asher met his gaze, his smirk just as wicked. "How about a bet?"
Azazel raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A bet? Now you've caught my attention. What's on the line?"
"I'm not interested in playing nice," Asher replied coolly. "If I land a single injury on you, you'll grant me a wish. But if you win, I'll become your slave. right?"
Azazel laughed heartily. "You've got guts, kid. Alright, I'll take you up on that. If I win, your wish better be good enough to match the cost of being my slave."
The deal was struck. The stakes were set. And both combatants prepared for the showdown.
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The battle commenced.
Asher wasted no time, bringing out his chain whip with a swift motion. He lashed it at Azazel, whose expression was cool and collected. With a flick of his wrist, Azazel deflected the whip effortlessly, his eyes locked on Asher's movements.
But Asher wasn't trying to overwhelm him with power; he was testing Azazel's defenses. The arena erupted with a series of explosive impacts as Asher attacked from every angle, his whip striking like lightning. Each hit was expertly deflected, sending shockwaves that rattled the very foundation of the arena.
The nobles watched in awe, stunned by Asher's speed and precision. They knew he was strong, but this—this was beyond anything they had expected.
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Azazel remained unscathed, his calm demeanor not wavering for a moment, but Asher had a different plan. He shifted tactics, pulling his chain back, pretending to slow down his attacks. His eyes focused on the one vulnerable spot on Azazel's body—the back of his head, concealed by his long hair. It was the perfect opportunity.
With a quick snap of his wrist, Asher lashed out with the chain, aiming directly at Azazel's exposed neck. Azazel tried to block it, but the whip was sharper than before. The tension in the chain increased, and in the blink of an eye, it struck the back of Azazel's head with a brutal force.But no one noticed
The impact sent a shockwave through the air, knocking Azazel off balance and pushing Asher back into the wall. Blood dripped from Asher's head as he staggered to his feet, pretending to be defeated.
"The fight is over," a noble remarked, "Even the heir of a mighty family can't withstand such a blow from the great Azazel!"
Asher's act was convincing. He dropped to one knee, feigning weakness, letting blood trickle from the wound. The nobles gasped, looking at Azazel for confirmation, but he didn't immediately react.
Azazel nodded. "Well done, Asher. I must admit, I didn't expect you to last this long. But rules are rules, you are now my slave "
Asher slowly walked up to Azazel, still pretending to be exhausted. When they shook hands, Asher whispered into Azazel's ear, "You think you're the winner? You think I'm defeated?"
Azazel froze, realizing the trap too late. "What are you—"
Asher grinned. "I injured you first. I knew you'd think you won. Now, you will fufill my wish because the rules are the rules, Azazel. You owe me."
The words sent a chill down Azazel's spine. The once-confident warrior was now frozen in disbelief, while Asher stepped back, leaving him to digest the fact that he had been played at his own game.
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The crowd was in stunned silence, waiting to see how Azazel would respond. But the atmosphere was thick with tension, as the mighty warrior was left standing in the middle of the arena, not knowing how to react to his unexpected defeat.
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