My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 321: The Taste Of Victory, Part

Formal wear. Like a butler in a ballroom. Hair slicked back with wax. Disheveled bushy beard groomed and combed to thick straight lines. Nick looked like a bulldog that so happens to be owned by some posh French fashion judge or something.

But there’s no mistaking those giant forearms bulging behind the fabric – like a pig to mud – you can’t just simply remove the ruggedness from the Nick.

Thanks to the competition, Nick’s reputation has taken a metamorphosis from the staff guy that was unusually large, to the staff guy that was a close second to victory.

Everyone on the table fell into a hush, some sensing danger excused themselves elsewhere. As for me, aside from the initial shock of his bizarre appearance, I was mostly unfazed.

“Wow...” I said, taking it, taking him all in, then blinking once to face his gaze. “Nice suit.”

He blinked back. “Nice dress.”

For some reason, he didn’t feel as intimidating, his stare not as intense... in a way, I could say he felt somewhat amicable... if that’s even a possibility. I decided to test the waters a bit, dipping a toe in with a little faint smile.

.....

“That was some competition, wasn’t it?” I said, scooting over to make space on the table. “Intense stuff.”

Yet Nick remained the stiff standing statue still with a pitcher outstretched. Makes sense, I suppose in hindsight... staff shouldn’t be caught dead mingling around during work hours after all.

“Yes, it really was,” He responded back, his inflection sounding less and less belligerent the more I heard it. “Congratulations on your victory by the way. You have fought well.”

Holy shit. Was that an actual compliment just now? From Nick? Shit, I better take a look outside... make sure the world hasn’t ended or something.

Wouldn’t be the first time...

“Yeah, same to you too...” I said, a little taken aback by the whole thing. “But, uh... if you don’t mind me saying... you’ve fought well, but you didn’t really fight much, all things considered.”

Nick just nodded, which prompted me to prod further, “Been wondering a bit about it, actually. Didn’t you tell me you were in it to win it?”

“Yes,” He nodded again. “I did.”

I tilted my head. “So why didn’t you win it?”

Honestly, I’ve no clue why I was wondering this, asking this... it’s all in the distant past now. I guess curiosity as always was getting the best of me... thinking of all those what-ifs, like if he had really fought me back then... would this still have been the outcome?

Would I still have been sitting here, lauded and applauded, and would he still have been standing there, tilting over a clay pitcher in his hand ever so slightly?

Back then, with veins pumped full of adrenaline, and fatigue addling further an already rattled mind, I’d have said definitely. But now that I’m here with a clearer, calmer perspective... I’m not sure if my answer would stay unchanged.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Nick said drearily. “It’s because you won it. In case you’ve yet to notice... that’s the reason we’re all here now.”

“You know what I mean, Nick,” I lowered my voice, staving our discussion away from prying ears. “Why did you forfeit our fight?” ????????????????????????????. ᴄ????m

“I thought that much would have been obvious too,” He said, then did something I never thought a sight feasible – he smiled. “Leon must have really done a number on you, didn’t he?”

Maybe it must have been a trick of the light, cause when I went in for a second glance, that smile went poof.

“I’ve said it to you many, many times,” He continued. “I only go where I am needed.”

“Meaning to say what?” I asked.

“When it came time for us to fight, when I went down there to approach you... that’s when I realized something.”

“Realize what?”

“That I wasn’t needed anymore,” He said.

I felt my lips gradually part inch by inch, from confusion at first, then when the realization struck, they were wide open from disbelief.

“You did all that, broke the rules, cash in all those favors – race, fought, all that effort in the competition- you’re saying you did all that... for me?”

“Don’t be mistaken,” He spoke a little harsher. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“Amanda...”

“Yes, always Amanda,” He glanced at me again, his eyes shifting up and down. “Mission accomplished.”

I kept gaping at him. “And you don’t mind that? Amanda being with me, you’re really fine with that?”

“Why would I ever mind that,” He said, his voice losing its harsh, jagged edge for just a single moment. “When she is already far happier being with you?”

What a confusing motive.

He goaded me, sabotaged me, irked me to no end... all for the sake of improving me, and in turn, all for the sake of helping Amanda out. Even though he loved her too, wanted her too. He didn’t mind letting his feelings go unrequited so long as Amanda belonged to someone who would care for her as much as he ever did.

What a noble motive.

“So...” Nick lightly rattled the pitcher in my face, reverting back to his usual monotone voice. “Some punch, sir?”

I let another smile show, not as faint this time though, and finally accepted his offer.

“Speaking of punches,” I said as he filled my glass to the brim. “Your sister mentioned you are in due for a good one to the face.”

“I suppose she might be right,” He stopped pouring, and drew the pitcher back to his side. “But if you believe you’ll ever get a hit on me, then I’m afraid you are sorely mistaken.”

“Oh yeah, big talk coming from the forfeiter,” I rolled my eyes. “Scary stuff.”

There it was again, and this time it was no trick of the light – the curl of his lips, I have to say... he looked better with a smile.

Nick stepped back, bowed his head slightly. “Now would that be all, sir?”

“Yes,” I told him, taking the glass into my hand. “As for now, your services are no longer required... you’re no longer needed here.”

“Seems that way...” He replied, then turning away, quietly muttered. “Hope it stays that way too.”

I watched him go, and as he did so, I thought back to all the things I heard about him... Adalia called him nice, Amanda said he was helpful, all the favors he’s done for the judges too made him out to be a Good Samaritan, always willing to help his fellow men.

Never believed a single word of it, never had, and before this point, I thought I never will... but now, after actually talking to him looking past the scowl in his gaze, the glare on his face... perhaps he might just make a believer out of me yet.

He didn’t see it, long gone by the time I did it, nevertheless, I went ahead and raised my glass his way.

“Here’s to you, Nick,” I whispered, taking a sip. “Thanks for the victory.”

Shit, shit taste sour, ugh.

Suddenly with Nick gone, and the coast clear, the vast majority that excused themselves away inexplicably were back laughing and chugging in their seats again... funny how that happens.

I entertained a few more questions before I decided it was time to go. I left my seat, discarded my glass... and funneled my way thought the hustle and bustle without a clear goal to steer my random wanderings to the straight and narrow.

Thought I might have seen a blur of dark violet skirting along the perimeter of the crowd, and when I did a double-take, instead of purple, there was a pair of misty whites in its place, staring back at me from afar.

Knew they were both lurking around here somewhere.

I took the first few steps towards their position, but before I could take another – I nearly went jumping out of my boots in shock from the sudden explosion of a trumpet tooting out a sonorous note right into my ear canal that would make any jazz player wanna cry and die.

“Hey – Big – Man – Ey!” Came Tyler’s voice, a word at a time, between the pause of every blare, “Time – It’s – Time – Let’s – Go!”

Before he could blow another, I ripped the trumpet from his hands and did a perfect half-court shot down into a nearby waste bin.

“Hey, that ain’t cheap!” He retorted, face staring defiant. “That was like three-dollar ninety from the stall there, man!”

“Get your money back,” I told him vigorously rubbing away the ringing in my ear. “Better yet, revoke his selling license. Goddamn horn’s gonna kill someone.”

“Meh, I’ll do it later,” With just one disregarding wave, he was all smiles again. “Anyway, I got word that your time is here and your time is now! Follow me, I’ll lead the way!”

I only had time to spit out one question as he pulled my arm into a sprint, saying in a whizz, “You mean the coronation?”

“Duh, what else?” He answered back with a suggestive smile. “Ask and you shall receive, my friend. You’re finally gonna get your hands on your long-awaited prizes.”