Chapter 22
Chapter 22
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: The Mixed-Blood's Insurrection (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
My first mission assigned by Tiriel was to act as a porter.
"Isn't this heavy?"
"No, it's manageable."
"Hee hee, as expected, you've got some real strength."
The load Tiriel had entrusted to me was a massive bundle too big for an average adult man to carry alone.
But for a gladiator slave like me, it was heavy, sure, but nothing I couldn't handle.
'What the hell are these things...?'
Anyway, I hoisted the bundle and followed behind Tiriel.
We ended up in the outskirts of the city of Parion.
The closer you get to the center where the Colosseum stands, the cleaner and more luxurious the buildings become.
So naturally, the farthest fringes from the center were rundown and filthy spaces that reminded me of modern ruins.
Houses pieced together from scavenged wood scraps crowded every inch, and the dirty ground sprouted only sparse weeds.
'That stench... Is that the smell of rotting corpses...?'
Once we entered the slums, I wrinkled my nose at the overpowering odor wafting through the air.
Tiriel, on the other hand, walked the path with an unchanging serene smile, her expression unflinching.
With her seraphim trait of pristine white wings, she looked like an angel descended into the slums.
And in truth, to the residents here, she was exactly that.
"Lady Tiriel!"
"Waaah! Lady Tiriel!"
The first to spot her were the children, who came running with bright, innocent smiles.
They wore grubby, tattered clothes, but their childlike cheerfulness made them adorably cute.
"S-Sorry...! Lady Tiriel! Our kids are being rude...!"
"Oh, no, it's fine. It's actually nice to feel so welcomed. Don't worry about it."
Tiriel greeted the approaching parents with her usual clear, radiant smile.
'What an unusual person.'
Unusual, or rather, not at all typical.
This world was one where bloodline was everything.
Purebloods were noble, mixed-bloods were trash.
In such a world, for a normal seraphim like Tiriel to be this kind to the slum dwellers—
In other words, the mixed-bloods—was something hard to even imagine.
They stank, they were filthy, and they were mixed-bloods, after all.
She even used the same polite honorifics with them as she did with everyone else.
"Gladiator sir, could you set the bundle down here?"
"Gladiator sir? Is this person a gladiator? Lady Tiriel."
"Waaah! A gladiator!"
The mention of "gladiator" drew everyone's attention to me.
The adults eyed me warily, while the kids' eyes sparkled.
Tiriel explained to the slum mixed-blood residents with a gentle smile.
"Yes, this is Number 17, the gladiator who's been stirring up Parion lately."
At those words, the crowd's expressions shifted from curiosity to astonishment.
The children's eyes sparkled even brighter.
"N-Number 17 gladiator slave...! You're him?!"
"The one who beat those Gundun brothers?! Amazing!"
"Got an axe? Show me your axe!"
"Ah...! S-Sorry...! Our kids...!"
The parents, now aware of my identity, grew even more fearful and tried to rein in their children.
Maybe because they were kids,
They bombarded me with questions without a hint of the intimidation from my Male Pheromone trait, just pure curiosity.
"Hee hee, it's okay. The gladiator sir is a good person, nothing like the rumors."
At that moment, Tiriel leaned in close and whispered to me.
"Now, gladiator sir. Could you hand out the contents of the bundle to the children, one each?"
"The bundle?"
"Yes."
Following her instructions, I set the bundle down and opened it.
'Ah, bread.'
It was filled with bread.
Not the soft kind Karga ate, but the tough, tasteless variety.
And there was a ton of it.
"Waaah! Bread!"
"Yummy!"
Even so, the children swarmed me joyfully at the sight of that bread.
They seemed even happier about it than learning who I was.
"Thank you so much, Lady Tiriel... Such precious food..."
"No, I'm sorry I can only offer you this tasteless stuff."
The slum residents began gathering more and more,
And one by one, they expressed their tearful gratitude to Tiriel.
They thanked me too as they received the bread from my hands.
"Thank you, gladiator sir...!"
"No need to thank me. I was just the porter."
"Not that—your victories...!"
"My victories?"
"Yes...! When I heard you beat that quarter dwarf...! It felt like I won myself...!"
"Right! We were all so happy and proud!"
Then they said things I never expected.
Even the adults who were initially afraid started to let their guards down once the bread distribution began, approaching me warmly.
"Thank ya kindly. Thanks to you, we can hold our heads high these days."
"Yeah, yeah. Still gettin' picked on, but for the first time, we've got somethin' to brag about."
The mixed-bloods were thrilled that one of their own had beaten opponents they could never hope to defeat.
And as they took bread from me, they offered bright, heartfelt thanks.
"Hee hee, I knew coming with you was the right call, gladiator sir."
"......"
Just as Tiriel said.
It was the right call coming here.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Ancestor 'Star Prophet' smiles.] Of course, part of it was stacking up good deeds to earn Astril's power,
but...
'Not bad at all.'
It felt rewarding, and as a bonus, I'd gained some favor with Astril.
'Not enough to qualify yet... but maybe I should keep at it.'
The sense of fulfillment sparked even more motivation.
So after handing out bread to everyone in the slums, I called out loudly.
"Anyone have tools that need fixing? Bring them to me if you do!"
"Huh? Fixing...?"
"The gladiator's offerin' to help?"
"Yes, free service—no need to worry about money. Bring as much as you want."
With Astril watching, this was the perfect chance to rack up good deeds.
In response to my shout, broken tools started pouring out from all over the slums.
"It's a farming tool—will this do?"
"This one's pretty big."
I borrowed tools from the residents who had them.
They were shabbier than what I'd used in the forge, but serviceable enough.
And soon enough,
I'd repaired them all neatly and returned them to their owners.
"Ooh! This...! It's not just fixed—it's like new! Incredible!"
"Oh my! Amazing! Even when I splurged at the forge before, it wasn't this good!"
Thanks to the Soul of the Burning Artisan from Morduin, fixing junk like this was a breeze.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Ancestor 'The Creating Mortal' bashfully wipes his nose.] [Ancestor 'Star Prophet' smiles at you.] "Come on, anyone else? Any kind of thing is fine—bring whatever you've got!"
The slum residents hauled out everything they'd stashed away in sheds or storage.
It was a lot, but for stacking good deeds, I smiled and got to work repairing them.
And that's when,
Swish.
"You've got some fine handiwork, gladiator sir."
"Huh... yes?"
"Hee hee, you're full of surprises. I figured a gladiator wouldn't have skills like this."
Tiriel sidled up next to me as I worked, sitting so close our bodies touched.
I could feel the soft touch of her skin, her sweet fragrance, and her warm body heat.
"As expected, gladiator sir is such a kind person."
Tiriel blushed faintly on her cheeks and smiled at me.
'...Is this okay?'
I'm a mixed-blood, and she's a celestial seraphim.
I wondered if it was fine for her to approach me with such fondness.
Why was Tiriel being so forward?
Was it her unusual personality? Or the effect of my Male Pheromone?
Either way, with Tiriel being such a beauty, it was hard for me to focus on the repairs.
Still, somehow I managed to fix every broken tool the slum folk had entrusted to me.
The last one was a cart.
It had been brought by a pretty girl who looked about middle-school age.
"Thank you! Gladiator sir! Wow... this was such a hassle broken."
"I'll come back again, so bring anything you need fixed next time."
"Yes! Oh, let me tell you my name. I'm Anna. I'll repay you somehow next time, so remember me!"
Anna gripped my hand tightly as she said that.
Her shy smile was pretty cute.
"My, you're popular."
"......"
No way, right?
She didn't seem old enough to be affected by the Male Pheromone.
I scratched my cheek in silence at Tiriel's teasing grin.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ My volunteer work with Tiriel wrapped up without a hitch.
I had a meal with her, then headed to the forge to complete my daily quest.
And in the evening, I returned to Karga with a tense heart.
'...Nothing bad happened, right?'
Karga hadn't been thrilled about it, but we hadn't done anything wrong with Tiriel.
Yeah, I had nothing to hide.
With that in mind, I boldly returned to Karga's room.
Knock knock knock.
"Lady Karga, just back from the mission."
A brief silence followed.
...No one's here?
As I reached for the door,
[...Come in.]
Karga's voice came from inside.
I opened the door and stepped in.
And immediately understood why the response had been delayed.
"...Pardon the intrusion. You have a guest."
"My direct slave."
"Ah, the one who's been making waves in Parion lately..."
Aside from Karga, another visitor was already in the room.
Steam rising from the teacups on the table suggested they'd just arrived.
"So you're that Number 17 mongrel slave."
"If he's bothersome, I can have him removed..."
"No, it's fine."
The man seated across from Karga cut her off with an arrogant tone.
He looked young.
And he had two horns sprouting from his head and a pair of wings.
'Draconian...?'
Karga's guest was a dragonkin.
Black horns, black wings, red eyes, and long red hair.
He appeared to be a pureblood Draconian.
But,
Looking closer, something was off.
'...Not pureblood?'
The pureblood Draconians I knew inherited Rahart's signature red eyes, jet-black horns, and wings.
This man's horns and wings looked black at a glance,
but up close, the color was faded.
Yeah, if I had to describe it, ashen gray.
And a guy with ashen horns and wings plus red eyes...
'That bastard's descendant—!'
A face flashed through my mind.
One I couldn't forget if I tried.
The one who'd given my first Rahart playthrough a massive troll:
Rahart's little brother, who'd stolen his childhood friend.
Definitely a descendant carrying Cedric's blood.
Whoosh.
'Damn...!'
Realizing that, among the myriad races in my blood, Rahart's lineage reacted violently.
"Hm...?"
I unintentionally unleashed killing intent toward the dragonkin man.
"Khg...!!"
The dragonkin, meeting my eyes, grimaced and covered his mouth with his sleeve.
Ah, Male Pheromone.
Probably that effect.
"A-Ahem...! Well then, Karga. That's all my business. I'll be going."
"Shall I see you out...?"
"No need. I'm not a child. Farewell..."
The dragonkin man rose abruptly and hurried out of the room.
Snapping back to my senses, I bowed my head subserviently like a proper slave.
He shot me a glare before leaving.
"Hoo..."
That was close.
Not pureblood or not, baring killing intent at a descendant of Cedric could've gotten me executed on the spot.
Luckily, the Male Pheromone's influence was stronger, so he left without a word.
"Who was that guest who just left, Lady Karga?"
Once the dragonkin's footsteps faded, I asked Karga, who was savoring her tea on the sofa, about the man's identity.
Not pureblood, but still carrying Cedric's blood.
Good to know.
But,
Her answer was unexpected.
"Ah, the pureblood young master of the dragonkin. They supply 60% of Parion's food, so he's been staying here for a month on managerial duties."
"......Pardon? Pureblood... you say?"
"Hm? Yeah. Didn't you know? Black horns, black wings, red eyes. Hallmarks of pureblood dragonkin."
"......"
Pureblood?
'A descendant of Cedric...?'
Even if he was Rahart's brother, the guy who stole Rahart's lover.
Jet-black and ash-gray are distinctly different.
No way the Draconians themselves would mistake that.
To them, ash-gray was the color of their enemy.
Of course, being Rahart's bloodline, they hadn't lost noble status.
But they could never be treated as purebloods.
'How is a descendant of Cedric... pureblood...?'
Something was wrong.
One hypothesis crossed my mind.
'They were switched...?'
Nothing else explained this situation.
And reaching that conclusion, I realized the most critical point.
'If Rahart ever finds out...'
Luckily, Rahart wasn't watching me now, so he hadn't noticed.
But if the day came when Rahart learned the truth,
My body would become his puppet,
And I'd slaughter Cedric's descendants until my body crumbled.
That future flashed in my mind.
And then.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Ancestor 'Dragon that Scatters Karmic Flames' gazes at you.] "......"
A chilling alert rang in my ears.