Sulphur & Lightning Chapter 18: 017 - Duel the Witch

Read chapter 18 of Sulphur & Lightning by anaugustauthor on NovelPedia.

"You have a lot less bite than usual," a tall youth said, looking down at an all-too-familiar Troll girl. He wore the well-fitted kaftan uniform that was customary for Elven servants. “Hello, Senior Adeleye," was her reply, curt and cold, a far cry from her usual raring-to-go demeanour. This man was quite aware of this and showed a slight expression of discomfort, but not for too long. “Don't tell me you're depressed because you got decked by a single Lycan," he said with a provocative smirk. "You shouldn't be. After all, you're still so inexperienced. Heck, when I was your age I… well, I never lost with a number's advantage or disgraced my master in front of Goblin nobility.” "What do you want, senior?” Her dry tone flustered him; usually she would have already been raging and challenging him to a duel, but this time she wasn't taking the bait even a little bit. Did the loss affect her that much? Adeleye didn't know what to say. As Danjuma’s chief servant, he served in a similar capacity to her, a fact which had brought them into proximity by virtue of the closeness in age of their two masters. With this close contact, as it often did, came intense friction. This haughty Witch and fiery Troll found themselves at constant and violent loggerheads. This current situation was perhaps a record for the longest time they had spent exposed to one another alone without engaging in combat. This was uncharted territory for the sixteen-year-old, and he could only mumble out something about it being a while since they had fought. "Okay", she said easily, once again surprising her senior, “but I need to check on my injured teammates first, if you don’t mind.” “Oh… that’s not an issue. I’ll accompany you; we haven’t talked in a long while.” It would be more accurate to say that they had never truly spoken, but that was neither here nor there; the proud Witch walked next to her, keeping up with her brisk and energetic pace. “So, was the fight that bad?” Yachit wasn’t offended by the topic and only smiled ruefully as she gave her older rival a little once-over. “It was… different,” she said simply. "He was certainly weaker than our group, but his powers were unorthodox. Even if we had known his information before our fight, it wouldn’t have been anything easy. It’s funny, the tales we tell of his kind in Jan Zaki both over and underestimate them. On one hand, we get the regular spiel about bloodthirst and underdeveloped intelligence, which seems to only be the usual propaganda which should be taken in with as much salt as one can comfortably fit in their palm, and on the other, the strange and macabre account of their abilities hardly does them any justice. Have you ever faced one?” "Never," Adeleye admitted stuffily, “although we did meet a few when doing a food transport mission earlier in the year. I will admit that I was expecting something a little more than the mildly bad-tempered farmers we did meet, and even then, their bad temper only extended to their lackeys, and they showed the Jan Zaki due respect. Aciayau actually recommended we start a fight with some of them to test out their abilities.” “I’m sorry for your loss.” Aciayau was one of the servants who had died during the hunt. “That’s the way of the Lion, isn’t it? To stand on one’s feet even in death. She was always way too troublesome.” They arrived in the sick bay, and the medics gave way, greeting the taller Witch with some respect. As a core member of the rising star that was the second young master, he was afforded no small regard in the clan and among their vassals. He simply nodded in acknowledgement as he watched her address her teammates. Atu was asleep at this time, but the string user Iya greeted her familiarly and nodded in her companion’s direction. It was a brief visit, and the usually rough girl cut a quite contradictory figure with the fistful of flowers she deposited between the pair. “It may be callous to say this while you’re in the middle of mourning, but I’