Noel made his way back to the seat he'd used earlier, away from the main crowd. The cheering had barely died down after his victory, but up here, things felt calmer.
"Oi!" a deep voice called out.
He glanced up and saw Balthor waving enthusiastically, a tankard already in hand. "You really took your sweet time, champ."
Noel sat beside him, still catching his breath. "Needed a walk after roasting that guy."
Balthor chuckled. "Roasting? You fried him with that last spell. Kid, I'm telling you—I made a fortune off that fight. These fancy nobles don't know shit about power when it's right in front of them."
Noel raised an eyebrow. "A fortune, huh? Then I expect free drinks at the Drunken Hammer for life."
Balthor snorted. "You'll get your drinks, but only if you keep winning. You're my lucky charm now."
Noel smirked. "Then take me to wherever you're placing these bets. Might as well see the place if I'm the one making you rich."
