The three months passed by in a blur, and everyone was gathered to do the battle evaluation. They were in the training hall and the dummies were gone.
"Split into two groups and attack each other," guild master Alklair spoke tiredly. Apart from a couple of already formed platoons, no one had bothered to work together.
There was pushing, which made Alklair cringe, shouting, which made him grit his teeth, and, the final nail in the coffin was when someone threw the first punch. After which a melee began.
"Enough!" Alklair's voice boomed across the sparring hall. He could see a couple of adventurers with black eyes. The only platoon who had stayed out of this had been platoon 23, who had jumped up and latched on the ceiling with mana.
"None of you are worthy of being adventurers!" Alklair spoke, a bit calmer. "Or, maybe I am not worthy of being guild master? Which one is it?"
No one dared to say a thing, and Alklair massaged his temple.
"All of you, turn in your uniforms. I wish you all luck," Alklair stood and got out. Followed by the gazes of the stunned adventurers.
"He can't do that," someone shouted.
"Of course he can, stupid. He is the guild master," another voice answered him.
"Well, I challenge you to an honor duel!"
And the fighting resumed. Slowly, a stunned platoon 23, or, rather, the former platoon 23, got down and got out of the training hall.
"Are we...unemployed?" Lilia asked. She had never been unemployed before. Because, most of the time, her parents had made her do odd jobs like babysitting for neighbors from different farms.
"Back to selling things at Fawn Boulevard, then," Dorian had liked his party, the platoon too. But the adventure was over. And he just needed to stick around for longer to get a license to sell his enchantment.
"What are you doing, quitting?" Leander snapped. "Do you want to know something? There was a time I nearly quit, once. With the weight loss, I mean."
"Lemon cake, just get yourself a position at the clinic. You will need to pass a couple of tests and that it is...wait, is the farm still ours?" Jean grew ashen at the prospect that they were homeless too — now.
"Alklair has signed a contract with us! It was written that we have five years of guaranteed service as long as we did our quotas. There is no way that he is going to get away with this," Florifel snapped, and everyone turned to stare at her.
"You are not saying we should sue the guild master? Our lawyer privileges are gone," Morris reminded her, and she wilted.
"We can move Atha and Bog to the inn. But, what about the leprechauns? They are under a dung.... contract. They are under contract," Armaros corrected himself.
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"There is only one way to deal with this," Leander spoke cryptically. "We have to challenge guild master Alklair to an honor duel for the ownership of the guild and all its assets."
"Fluia to Leander: He whipped the floor with us last time," Morris reminded him.
"Lemon cake, don't add humiliation to the...humiliation of being kicked out of the guild," Jean spoke mournfully, eyes pointed down.
"What do we have to lose? We are homeless, unemployed and with just enough savings to last us a month, at the most. No skills that a civilian would welcome to speak of, and the blemish of being kicked out of a guild to boot!" Leander screamed and everyone shuddered. "We either do the impossible, or we die impoverished."
His final words made everyone grow silent. The gears in their heads beginning to turn.
"Maybe, if the entire guild challenges him to an honor duel, and we attack one after the other, we can tire him enough so that one of us could take him down?" Lilia suggested. She nudged Dorian. "Come on, leader. Hand in the middle."
"This is madness," still, despite saying that, Dorian placed his hand in the middle.
Dorian went to the front and raised three fingers, deciding not to bother with the whistle. The platoon got in place, and they all walked back to the training hall. Dorian took the whistle from around his neck and began to whistle. He kept at it until the melee ended and people turned to stare at him.
"Leander, this was your idea. You convince them," Dorian stepped back and Leander took his place. For once, oozing confidence.
"The guild master has decided that we are unworthy: of consideration, employment and a good life. Well, I say it is time for a new guild master, but the guild is ours, and it stays!" There was silence for a whole minute, and then someone said an uncertain "Yeah," and everyone began to shout it.
"What do you propose," Alektos went to the front, and then straightened up as if he were before the guild master, with his fist going to his chest.
"We challenge Alklair to an honor duel, and we fight him one by one. He is bound to get tired, while we will be fresh. To do so, we will have to challenge him individually, or he will just get Valerie and Baleg to party with him, and then we are all doomed. He wants us to show him we can team up? Then we will! Against him!"
At the end of Leander's speech, everyone was in a neat two-row line. Their fists on their chest.
"We will decide who gets to be the new guild master later, once we win," Leander continued when he saw the calculating gaze of those closest to him. "With another honor duel, if we have to. Come on, we have to challenge him before he decides to leave the country, or something!"
Dorian went to the front and raised three fingers high for everyone to see.
"Party and platoon leaders, order the same formation as I," Dorian shouted, and he heard the shuffling of feet. For once, no one argued. They got out in an orderly fashion, with platoon 23 leading the way to Alklair's office.
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