After the good Harper’s admirable attempt, a few more brave souls stepped up to the challenge. None, unfortunately, provided as entertaining a show - they were summarily defeated, pummeled, and thrown off to the side. Poor Ruggiero had his work cut out for him. Not a moment passed where the man wasn’t treating someone’s wounds or preventing them from passing on to the next world: the underworld to be exact.
At one point, a group of players even attempted to ambush Lady Bradamante through sheer number. She did allow it beforehand, but nonetheless it was a very shameful display - especially with how casually they were dispatched. The paladin hadn’t used any more strength than she presented in the beginning, and yet the length of her spars were quickly shortening with each subsequent opponent.
Even after all her bouts, Bradamante’s face remained pristine without a drop of sweat. Her armor? Untouched. Her boredom? Very evident. She yawned and stretched her body, smoothing out the muscles that had still yet to be used.
“This has been a very… informative experience,” she said, cracking her neck. “Would anyone else like to step forth? I do hope the next one is competent.”
The remaining players sat frozen in their seats, much to her disappointment.
“Hm, I see. It can’t be helped, then… Ruggiero and I will have to devise a very, very arduous course if we’re to make you lot of some use. But really, I expected more - such a shame.”
Bradamante sighed and crossed her arms. “This is your last chance. Will no one else truly move me?”
Silence. No one spoke a word… except for Mili.
“Hey, Marco,” she said, turning towards him with a wicked smile. “Why don’t you give it a go? I’ve seen those fists of yours. You’re probably the most experienced person here when it comes to brawling.”
Marco stared at her in horror. “You kiddin’ me? I’ll get my ass kicked down there.”
“Language, Mister Bernardi,” Lucius tutted.
“Sorry. But really, how’s an old fella like me supposed to win against her?”
Mili wagged her finger. “Tsk, tsk, you don’t need to win, big guy. All you gotta do is land a solid one-two, and she’ll even give you some fancy trinket for your troubles.”
Marco tried to protest, but Mili wouldn’t budge and looked up at him—her eyes sparkling with expectation. The old mobster was powerless before her excitement, and so he stood up, reluctantly, and dragged himself over to the arena.
“Oh?” Bradamante mused, eyeing him up and down. “You have a different presence compared to the others. Those scuffed hands… you’re a man who’s drawn blood.”
Marco grimaced and raised his guard. “I ain’t proud of it, miss. All I can do now is use them to protect, unlike the idiot of before who ran around thinkin’ he was some wannabe hot shot.”
The lady didn’t know exactly what he said, but she understood his intent. The past was inevitable. Your regrets, your mistakes: They were forever engraved in memory.
She nodded, and bid him a sad smile. The paladin seemed to have regrets of her own, and so toward the good Marco, she extended to him a kindred acknowledgement. “Such is the curse of those left among the living. Your name, warrior?”
“Call me Marco.”
“Very well then, Sir Marco. Let us have an insightful spar.”The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
This time, Bradamante was the one to rush in first. She leapt into the air and came crashing down with a smash of her heel. The old mobster couldn’t follow her movements. However, he had one advantage compared to the previous challengers: natural, battle-worn instinct. He ducked away from her leg and barreled forward in a relentless series of feints and punches.
The indomitable lady, the paladin who had treated the other players as mere playthings, was forced into a sincere defensive for the very first time. Her gaze hardened; her hands clenched with resolve. Phantom traces were left in the wake of Marco’s assault. What made him a difficult foe was his complexity: He never repeated the same attacks twice.
A fake out into a near-instant right hook; lightning fast jabs; looping overhands cycled into an explosive uppercut. His simple style proved to be an advantage, for the paladin could not anticipate when and where he would strike from.
But while Marco excelled in fighting mid-range, he lacked defense in the lower body. His footwork was quick and flexible, but he struggled to block Bradamante’s kicks and sweeps. It was to be expected - Marco never truly fought on a professional stage. The brawls he was used to were large, chaotic melees where fists flew free and danger came from every direction… except for below. The average street fighter only knew how to use their hands. Against an opponent like the lady who could shift from head, body, and ground game in an instant, the old mobster was unfortunately out of his depth.
Even so, he pushed on. His calves swelled with red from Bradamante’s swift counters, but it did little to slow his speed. The man surged forward with sheer resilience.
The two of them darted across the arena, neither one willing to yield to the other. Time was not on Marco’s side, however. The longer they fought, the more the lady grew used to his tactics, until eventually she wrenched away his advantage and overpowered him with a cunning onslaught of her own.
Bradamante’s stratagem was different from Marco’s. She excelled in manipulating the space between them, positioning herself in his blind spots and striking where he could not reach. Flexibility, adaptability, stances changing with a snap of the finger: every muscle in her body was completely under her control. Lucius thought she looked more like a gymnast rather than a knight at some points. The lady transitioned between all kinds of sequences and hypnotic forms as naturally as the flowing water.
This was no mere spar anymore. Although Marco had yet to land a blow, Bradamante’s composure gradually began to unwound - her brow furrowed deep in concentration. It was as if the lady had forgotten about the crowd around them. They didn’t matter. She couldn’t afford to waste even a shred of focus, not when her foe was still going strong despite all her effort.
“You… confuse me, Sir Marco,” Bradamante said, her breath growing uneven. “Even a veteran of the Order would have succumbed to pain by now. How do you still stand?”
Marco chuckled and pushed her away with a heavy shoulder tackle. “Us old timers have gone through our fair share of hell. This is nothing.”
So Marco confidently declared, and perhaps for those in the audience he came across as very manly, but Lucius knew otherwise. The sly fellow hid his pain resistance skill.
“Now he's just showing off,” Mili giggled.
No matter how much Bradamante hit him, the man stood firm. The two were trapped in a stalemate. The lady would have to stop holding back in order to bring him down, but then she’d be breaking her oath: a dilemma for the ages. Her only course of action left was to rely on more lethal means of attack.
She waited for his fists to lower, and then dashed right for his neck. She wasn’t trying to kill him… or at least Lucius didn’t think so. It was supposed to be a quick strike - a blow at his most vulnerable with just enough force to knock him out.
But when the moment came, it was not flesh or skin she had struck. It was metal.
Marco’s neck was coated in the same metallic layer Lucius saw back in the maze. The old mobster grinned - he let his guard down on purpose. Now, it was time to retaliate.
Before Bradamante could recover, he stepped forward, and then smashed her body right in the gut. The lady was set shuffling back, her greaves dragging across the ground and leaving behind a crumbled trail of dirt.
She remained still for a moment, utterly bewildered by what just occurred. She looked down, then up, and then back down again. A large mark was left on her armor from the brass knuckles - apparent for all to see. It was a mark that proved Marco’s clear victory.
Bradamante whipped her head back, and laughed. “It’s my defeat! Really, I haven’t had that much fun in a long while. Congratulations to you, Sir Marco. It looks like there are some gems worth polishing among your kind after all.”
>[The Group Sub Quest has been completed! Most Valuable Player: Marco Bernardi]<
*(NEW!) Obtained 150 Cosmic Coins
*Your reputation with the Frankish Paladins has increased