One-Eyed Monster

The Non Intoxication Tavern was teeming with idle Treasure Hunters from the break of dawn. These restless folk, hearing news of a Spirit Duel, surged toward the tavern like flies to rotten meat. The location? The Non Intoxication Tavern.

I must admit, news spreads quickly around Guru Mountain. In no time, the drunks, the sober, the awake, and the sleepy all seemed to have ingested a Wizard's energizing concoction, their expressions transforming from languid to lively. These gleeful spectators squeezed into the crowd, desperate to secure optimal viewing spots for the Spirit Duel. Those who failed to maneuver into the heart of the action, due to their less cunning tactics, had to resort to peering in on tiptoe from the outskirts. Though this approach didn't solve the fundamental issue of their limited view, it did, to some extent, assuage their restless desire to catch a glimpse of the ongoing duel.

Luckily, the dueling parties were loud enough that everyone, even those without a height advantage, could hear the conversation crystal clear. This audible dialogue relieved those spectators who were having a hard time seeing the action. Their imagination no longer needed to cover vast grounds, as they now had a general idea of what was transpiring.

"Hmph!" One voice roared, strong and potent – like a bolt of thunder tearing through the sky. The less courageous in the crowd instinctively covered their heads.

"What are you hmphing about?" retorted another voice, dull and lifeless, as immovable as a stone.

"You little rabbit! Do you know who I am?" The thunderous voice grew even louder, tinged with irritation.

"No idea," replied the stone-like voice, slow and monotone.

The stony reply sent the observing Treasure Hunters into a fit of laughter.

The sudden guffaw caused the old man's face to flush then pale in rapid succession. Even though only the viewers at the front could see his expressions, it was enough to make him uneasy.

"You little rabbit, so ignorant of the world! Once I've skinned you, we'll see who's arrogant then!" The old man's voice pitched higher, nearing a hoarse scream.

"We've already agreed to a Spirit Duel, so why the delay?" The stone-like voice was as steady as ever, unprovoked.

"You..." The old man was too flustered to utter another word.

Among the Treasure Hunters, many recognized the one who spoke like a stone, slowly and sluggishly.

That stone was Billy, a mere serving boy at the Non Intoxication Tavern. Ordinarily, he was completely unremarkable; nobody knew why he suddenly appeared so self-assured.

He must be drunk; he probably thinks he's grown a leopard's gall! someone whispered amidst the crowd. Evidently, this Spirit Duel was a feast for the Treasure Hunters, long left in the doldrums. They would have felt they were doing themselves a disservice, after being idle for so long, not to savor every moment of the spectacle they hadn't realized they were starved for.

The audience watched and conversed. Those at the front, wielding their prime seats, acted as live commentators, turning proudly to relay information to the eager spectators packed behind them. The latter nodded and smiled, assuring the messengers they knew the story so far; they wouldn't dare confess to those proud front-rowers that they'd missed most of it.

People, by nature, have a complex side. When faced with their peers, even if clearly somewhat inferior in strength, they are loath to admit it. They'd rather attribute others' achievements to luck or some other external factor. Persuading someone to sincerely acknowledge another who is just slightly superior is an incredibly difficult task.

For instance, none of the Treasure Hunters squeezed further back believed they were pushed aside due to a lack of strength. Instead, they were convinced the people in the front had used cunning tricks. Thus, when faced with the proud expressions of those in the front, they responded with knowing smiles, as if to say they could see and knew everything perfectly well.

And the front-row Treasure Hunters, taking the back-row's knowing smiles as a provocation, were determined to broadcast every single move of the two duelists immediately, fiercely defending their prime view and the pride that came with it.

In such a charged atmosphere, it was hard for information not to spread like wildfire.

"Little rabbit, you're about to witness how formidable I am!" There was a loud THUMP. Then, the front-row spectators saw a wine bottle shoot like an arrow released from its bowstring toward the stone-like Billy.

THUD. The scene that followed left the viewers astounded. The rapidly advancing wine bottle seemed to hit an invisible wall, slowing dramatically before leisurely coming to a stop right in front of Billy. Billy even had the composure to nonchalantly uncork it and take a sip.

HISS. The dumbfounded onlookers gasped and started whispering among themselves.

To the Treasure Hunters, the thunderous voice belonged to a High Rank Spirit-Awakened old man, apparently a Wizard, judging by his attire—a Gray Robe. Regardless of his elemental affinity—be it Wind Type, Water Type, or Flame Type—a Gray Robe Wizard commanded reverence in Guru Mountain. Wizards were rare across the continent, let alone one of High Rank status like a Gray Robe. Consider Witch Biggs, the sole Wizard in Gaga County: she had only recently advanced from a Black Robe to a Wind Type Gray Robe.

And then there was Billy, a commoner with no discernible Spirit Power. How could he possibly withstand an enraged Gray Robe Wizard? A mere serving boy displaying such skill was utterly inconceivable!

Could this be a farce?

Was the Non Intoxication Tavern behind this sham, having nothing better to do?

An enraged Wizard, a stone-like competitor...

And that pale, feeble dialogue at the start...

What was going on? They came to see a joke, to watch a serving boy get thrashed, so how did it suddenly turn into this!

They had wanted to witness a Wizard extracting Spirit Power from a commoner, not some staged drama...

The spectators grew restless, feeling this Spirit Duel farce had tricked them. In truth, their agitation stemmed from their fundamental misunderstanding of what a Spirit Duel entailed.

Think about it: would a commoner, someone who can't even sense Spirit Power, speak of initiating a Spirit Duel?

Could a flying wine bottle simply slow down on command?

It can only be concluded that when individuals are bored to a certain extreme, their cognitive abilities often decline accordingly.

Of course, Billy, the stone-like serving boy, was himself oblivious to what had just transpired. Billy's consciousness was currently dormant.

For now, Billy's body belonged to someone else...