Kings Game

Chapter 110 - Poor Decisions

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Kell waltzed out of the arena with a hop in her step and a grin on her face. She couldn't remember the last time she'd swept a bout so cleanly. She'd torn through the competition with ease and had barely broken a sweat.

Stopping at the administrative office, Kell collected a heavy sack of coin for her efforts. The leather bag was pleasantly plump and jingled when Kell tossed it up and down. She'd been away from the arena for too long. It felt good to win so completely and she hadn't even killed a single person. It was a total victory.

Before leaving the administrative office, Kell pestered one of the clerks.

"Hey, how much prestige did I earn for that bout?"

The clerk blinked at her, as though annoyed by the question, before sighing and cracking open one of their heavy tomes. Kell fidgeted back and forth while they leafed through the pages.

"You earned nine prestige marks," said the clerk. "Bringing your total to five hundred and twenty three."

Kell frowned. That seemed low. "I thought I had more than that."

"You lose a hundred for every month you go without a bout. It appears your highest prestige was a bit under three thousand, though that was years ago."

Kell swore. She'd been playing soldier too much. Then an idea struck her. "How much prestige do I get for fighting with the army?"

"It depends on your assignment and your accomplishments. On average, Champions earn a few hundred prestige per year with the army. You would have to talk to them and have them transfer your records to us. We don't have access to those."

Another hoop to jump through but at least it was a start. "Final question, how many do I need to challenge the Kings?"

The clerk's eyebrows shot up. They pursed their lips and regarded Kell. Slowly, they said, "You would need to defeat the King's Chosen Champion first. Upon their death, you would be offered the opportunity to challenge a King for their crown. In order to challenge a Chosen Champion, you must hold twenty-five hundred prestige marks and receive the blessing of the Kings."

Kell swore again. She would need a couple thousand more marks before she could even ask to fight the Kings and that was only if they honored the request. Technically, all of the Chosen Champions would be dead so Kell could challenge them when she reached the required rank in the arena, but there was no guarantee that they would honor the agreement. If anything, the only person that could challenge the Kings would be Roran after he killed Destra. Kell was completely out of this fight.

Leaving, she muttered, "Well this endeavor was a waste."

Kell hefted the sack of coin in her hand. Maybe it hadn't been a total waste.

She wandered through the halls of King's Arena until she reached the waiting hall that Tristan had been assigned to. She found the young Champion sorting out his armor and brushing dirt out of his hair.

"Well you look like hell," Kell said, grinning. "How did it go?"

Tristan rolled his eyes. "We won, barely. I got thrown through a wall. I thought I was going to die. Probably would have if I hadn't spent all of my money on defensive etchings." Tristan paused. "Hey...is there any chance you could get the Worldbreaker to-"

"Nope, never going to happen. Nul only etches me and Roran." Tristan pouted. "Hey, cheer up, you won. That means dinner is on me."

"And drinks are on me. You were amazing out there."