Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: The Mongrel's Insurrection (1)
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My death was all but assured, and if I wanted to survive, I needed even greater power.
And right now, the fastest way to grow stronger was, of course, to receive power from a new ancestor.
With no accomplishments to my name yet, the only ones who could grant me risk-free power were the new ancestors who hadn't bestowed any strength on me before.
"Great ancestors..."
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Your voice echoes through the Feast of the Stars... Responding Ancestors: 3 "......"
I prayed while keeping one eye on the message, clicking my tongue inwardly.
'Still no dice, huh...'
The ones responding to my prayer were the same three as before.
That meant the newcomer, the Star Prophet Astril, hadn't responded to me.
'Rahart gave me power the moment we met, so I had high hopes...'
Of course, even Rahart had only dumped a one-time power boost on me before going radio silent.
Anyway.
So far, I'd encountered five ancestors.
By now, I had my own theory on how to receive their power.
Elisis responded to strength training.
Morduin to artisan work.
Arkan to sexual harassment.
Rahart was an exception, but... I could chalk it up to vengeance.
The common thread in all four cases? I'd performed actions intimately tied to those ancestors.
Figure out their tendencies in life.
Then perform related actions to qualify for their power.
'Putting it like that, it almost feels like... synchronization.'
I could wield the exact powers my ancestors used.
In this mongrel body of mine.
Something even purebloods needed years of training for, and I achieved it just by receiving a gift.
So.
Maybe performing actions aligned with an ancestor's tendencies was like tuning my body to match theirs?
Like installing the right program on a PC to open a specific file.
In other words...
To receive Astril's power, I needed to rack up deeds similar enough to her own tendencies.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Ancestor 'Star Prophet' gazes upon you. "At least your tendencies are predictable."
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Ancestor 'Star Prophet' tilts her head at you. Astril reacted as if she couldn't understand my words, and I smirked.
Astril, ancestor of the Seraphim.
Her epithet was Star Prophet, but in life, this title had practically replaced her name.
——The Saintess.
Saintess Astril.
'Fitting the nickname, her tendencies boil down to... good deeds, nothing else.'
Among order-aligned races, the Seraphim were the most purely good.
And among them, she was called a saintess.
Of course, that tendency was heavily influenced by how I'd played her.
'She was the last order race, so I went for a unique playstyle.'
A concept playthrough, you could say.
After rampaging freely with the others, I craved something fresh.
So for Astril, I banned all killing and focused solely on saving people.
That's how I earned the Saintess title.
"Haa..."
I let out a small sigh.
Astril's tendencies were obvious.
Which meant my path was clear too.
Good deeds.
Just like Saintess Astril, I needed to perform acts of kindness.
That's why I was stumped.
"How's a mongrel gladiator slave supposed to do good deeds...?"
My current situation was the worst possible for charity work.
I was a gladiator slave trapped in the Colosseum.
My nose was in a vice—talk about a fitting idiom.
'To do good deeds, there need to be people worse off than me, at least...'
This was Parion, the gladiators' graveyard.
In a city of fighters, were there really any wretches more pitiful than a gladiator slave?
'And it has to be enough to qualify for Astril's power...'
Of course, like with the previous ancestors, it probably didn't need to be anything grandiose.
But even so, things weren't looking good.
I still needed to find someone desperate enough to accept help from a mongrel gladiator slave like me.
"Hmm..."
I mulled it over while cleaning Karga's room.
Should I check on the other mongrel slaves?
Or volunteer unpaid labor at the forge?
No, unpaid forge work was standard for mongrel slaves, so it wouldn't count as charity.
"Hmmm..."
I was deep in thought when—
Knock knock knock.
"Hm...?"
It was a bit before lunchtime.
A soft knock echoed from Karga's door.
"Who is it?"
With no visitors expected, I opened the door curiously.
"Ah, good, you're here."
"Uh, huh...? Clinic Director...?"
There stood a woman in a nun's habit, pristine white wings folded behind her.
Tiriel.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Tiriel had come to request aid from Karga.
"......Number 17, you say?"
"Yes."
And that aid? Borrowing me, a slave.
Tiriel made the request politely as Karga received her courteously.
"I need a gladiator."
"......"
Karga didn't answer right away.
She glanced at me, then stared down at her teacup in thought.
'Status-wise, Tiriel outranks her, huh.'
Karga was the sister of Parion's owner, Taira.
Blood kin to a pureblood beastkin.
But her essence as a half-blood never changed.
In this world, blood purity came first.
A regular Seraphim like Tiriel held higher standing than a half-blood like Karga.
Karga looked reluctant but couldn't refuse outright.
'Jealousy...? Nah, probably just the Male Pheromone effect.'
I stood quietly behind Karga at a diagonal, like a proper slave, watching their exchange.
Yesterday, Karga had exploded seeing me cozy with Tiriel.
I'd thought it was just outrage at a mongrel offending a normal like Tiriel.
But now, she was subtly wary of Tiriel.
'Mongrel or not, feels like a waste to hand me over.'
Of course, I harbored no hopes from Karga's attitude.
No sane half-blood would want to pair with a mongrel in this world.
"Lady Tiriel... may I ask why you're borrowing Number 17 specifically?"
Just then, Karga voiced exactly what I'd been wondering.
I pretended disinterest but perked up my ears.
"Hmm... do you want my honest feelings? Or the excuse I prepared?"
"Pardon...?"
Tiriel replied with a pure, faintly mischievous smile.
A light joke only a higher-status normal like her could pull off against Karga.
But Karga pondered it seriously before saying,
"Your prepared reason is fine. ...I'm just curious why."
She wisely deferred to Tiriel.
Tiriel giggled. "Hee hee. Then I'll tell you both."
"......Pardon?"
Tiriel was quite the prankster, unlike her first impression.
...Well, our first meeting had been pretty bold, so not that surprising.
"The prepared reason is, he's the most popular mongrel right now."
"Because he's popular...?"
"Yes. He's achieved results no mongrel gladiator ever has."
Tiriel met my eyes as she spoke, flashing a bright smile.
'Is she for real an angel...?'
Her smile was so radiant that this mere male felt his heart race and cheeks flush.
Zing.
I averted my gaze from Karga's sharp glare.
"And... the real reason is."
Tiriel turned to the glaring Karga and shared her 'true intent' as planned.
Blushing faintly, smiling shyly.
"I... want to get to know the gladiator more."
Pretty bold words for such a shy expression.
"D-Dee-deeply... you mean?"
"Yes, I have so many questions about you, gladiator."
Tiriel smiled again, locking eyes with me.
Thump.
'Whoa...'
Zing.
'Whoa, whoa...'
I hurriedly looked down under Karga's piercing stare once more.
Felt even more murderous than before.
Just my imagination?
Maybe a mongrel like me was overthinking my self-importance.
As I kept my eyes down for a moment.
"......"
"Would that be a problem? Feel free to refuse if it's too much trouble. Don't mind me."
I glanced at Karga, who seemed conflicted.
"......"
She gripped her teacup tightly, staring silently into it.
Then, finally.
She closed her eyes and answered reluctantly.
"No... it's fine. Take him, Lady Tiriel."
"Yay! Really?"
As expected, Karga approved Tiriel's request.
'She's such a stickler for rules she calls her big sis 'master.' Of course she'd agree.'
Tiriel the normal outranked half-blood Karga.
And the request wasn't unreasonable.
Refusing would go against Karga's own principles.
I was just a lowly mongrel slave, so maybe she didn't agonize as much as I thought.
"Then, I'll borrow the gladiator every morning this week! Thanks, Karga!"
Tiriel beamed innocently, dropping an unexpected bombshell.
Karga and I stared at her in shock.
Karga immediately asked,
"Pardon? This whole week?"
"Oh, didn't I mention? Sorry. If it's inconvenient..."
"N-No... iiit's f-fine..."
"Yay! Really? Thank you, Karga!"
"......"
And naturally, with prior approval, backing out now would be odd.
Just like that, I was rented out for the week.
'Did she plan this...?'
Get the yes first, then tack on extras.
Nah, with that pure smile?
My needless suspicion.
...Right?
"Hee hee, let's go, gladiator."
And so I followed Tiriel out of Karga's room.
"I-I'm off then, Karga."
"......"
Karga just sat on the sofa, staring wordlessly.
Creeeak.
Thud.
For the week, I became slave to the Seraphim healer, Tiriel.
Though I still had no clue what I'd be doing.
"Um... Lady Tiriel?"
"Yes?"
I trailed behind her and ventured carefully,
"Could I ask... what exactly I'll be helping with?"
"Oh, I never said, did I? Hee hee, I got so focused on renting you."
Tiriel spun around with a bright smile, taking both my hands in hers like cradling them.
"We're going to help those in need."
"Pardon...?"
"To the slums. The mongrel district. You're popular with mongrels, so I thought you'd be perfect to come along."
"......"
Helping the needy in the slums.
The mongrel-packed slums.
'Isn't that... a good deed?'
An unexpected jackpot.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "......"
In the quiet room after Number 17 and Tiriel left, Karga sat motionless, staring at her teacup.
"......Tch."
Then, frustrated, she clenched her fists on her lap and let her ears droop low.
Her mind flashed to Tiriel and Number 17 departing together.
And yesterday's sight of them pressed close, exuding an intimate vibe.
The images overlapped, filling her chest with inexplicable stuffiness.
And with them, Tiriel's words from moments ago resurfaced.
'And... the real reason is. I... want to get to know the gladiator more.'
It looked just like a girl smitten with love.
'No way... Lady Tiriel's a normal. No way she'd feel that for a mongrel slave...'
But common sense said it was impossible.
A normal Seraphim attracted to a mongrel—let alone a gladiator slave?
Absurd.
Unthinkable.
"......"
Yet.
Karga herself.
Felt Number 17's masculine allure intensely.
'Sis showed willingness for at least mating...'
His scent was irresistibly alluring to her as a female.
Unlike anything she'd ever smelled.
And it wasn't just beastkin like her feeling it.
It proved he was a superior male.
Any female—any woman—would feel the same pull as Karga.
"......Ngh."
Suddenly, Number 17's thrilled expression at Tiriel's smile popped into her head.
And his flushed face pressed against Tiriel at the clinic.
Expressions she'd never seen with her.
'Of course... all I ever do is scold him...'
Karga hunched over, tail and ears limp, head bowed.
"Am I... an unappealing woman...?"
Even though he was her slave.
Imagining him stolen by another woman plunged Karga into sudden self-doubt.