Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: This Victory to the Great Ancestor (1)
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Finally, day six had arrived.
Just one day left until the next gladiator match.
And normally, combat slaves scheduled for gladiator bouts got a day of rest beforehand.
Of course, in the case of our big-breasted beastkin guard sister Karga, she nagged me to do personal training instead.
'Checking the limits of my power is the final task...'
I finished my daily quest of bodyweight exercises early in the morning, then sat cross-legged in a meditative pose.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Trait 'Quartet of the Wind' activated! —Whiiiiiing.
As soon as I activated the trait, a gentle breeze began to swirl around my body.
Maintaining that swirling output strongly around my body was precisely the 'Curtain of the Wind'.
I held the meditative pose for a while, keeping the Curtain of the Wind active.
For my other active skills, I had a sense of their mana consumption when used.
But the Curtain of the Wind drained mana continuously.
So I needed a concrete time measurement of how long I could sustain it.
"Hoo..."
About fifteen minutes into the meditation.
That's when I started feeling my energy drain bit by bit.
Different from physical fatigue...
More like staying up all night and then driving.
'Can I hold out a bit longer...? Just a little more...'
This test was to probe the limits of my mana capacity.
So enduring to the very end was crucial.
Then, around the twenty-minute mark.
"Ah, shit..."
I suddenly felt dizziness wash over me, my vision swaying.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Ding!
"Mm..."
Ding!
I opened my eyes at the alert ringing in my ears.
A message appeared before me.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Ancestor 'Eternal Teacher of the Fairies' smiles slyly. "Slyly...? What..."
"Eut...!"
"Wha, wha?!"
I read the message aloud absentmindedly, and suddenly a delicate voice came from above my head.
Come to think of it, I was lying down.
On something soft and fragrant, with a faint puppy-like musky scent...
"Whoa?! Guard—!!"
"Hm, you're conscious now."
I hadn't noticed right away upon opening my eyes—partly because the message blocked my view.
But also because those massive hills of Karga's breasts obscured her face beyond it.
Thanks to that, I belatedly realized I was lying on her thigh.
No, wait... Why the hell was I lying here?
"Um, what happened...?"
"You passed out, and your mongrel buddies called me."
"Then this is..."
"The clinic."
I looked around.
A small fountain with clean water flowing in the center.
Beds arranged around it.
I had been lying on one of them, on Karga's thigh.
"Do mongrel gladiators get treated here when they're hurt...?"
The question popped into my head the moment I saw the clinic, and I asked Karga directly.
Normally I'd skip such a question, but she seemed a bit gentler right now.
And my intuition was spot on—Karga answered indifferently.
"Of course not. Usually, if it's a fatal illness, we let them die; if not, they don't die, so we leave them be."
"...So basically, we just leave them alone. ...Huh? Then why am I...?"
"......"
I looked at her puzzled, and she stared back with her golden eyes, impassive.
After a brief silence, she averted her gaze slightly and replied.
"Your last match was impressive. ...We can't let a useful mongrel die. It'd be a loss for the master."
"Ah, I see."
Ding!
"Hm...?"
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Ancestor 'Eternal Teacher of the Fairies' smiles slyly! '...What's with this one?'
The muscle-perv elf looked inexplicably thrilled.
But asking wouldn't get an answer, so I ignored it.
Then, Karga, who had been standing with arms crossed in silence, spoke up.
"You passed out from mana depletion."
"Ah, was that it...?"
"'Was that it'? You didn't know?"
Karga fixed me with a sharp gaze.
"W-Well..."
Overwhelmed by her stare, I shrank back and answered cautiously.
After hearing my explanation, she nodded.
"I see. Testing your total mana capacity, huh. For tomorrow's match."
"...Yes. I didn't expect to pass out. My apologies."
"......Impressive. You're diligent."
"Pardon?"
"Nothing. Just talking to myself."
Ding!
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Ancestor 'Eternal Teacher of the Fairies' smiles slyly! Why does this keep happening?
"Ahem, anyway. Figuring out you pass out from mana shock before the match is a good move. Well done."
"...Thank you."
"But I hear tomorrow's match is a big event. So rest up and don't overdo it."
"Yes!"
"Hm."
At my spirited reply, Karga rose from the bed and walked past me.
She patted my shoulder as she went by.
'Did I win her approval somehow?'
As I watched her retreating figure, my eyes drifted to her swaying hips and tail.
Ding!
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Ancestor 'Eternal Teacher of the Fairies' smiles slyly! "...Is the system glitching or something? Why does it keep doing this?"
I glared into empty space, thinking of Elisis spamming the same message.
'Anyway..., max twenty minutes.'
I recalled the time I'd checked right before blacking out.
Elisis had helped with the timing, so no margin for error.
'Factor in using other active skills a few times..., and about ten minutes is the limit.'
I'd learned my lesson this time.
Deplete all mana, and you pass out.
Pass out mid-match, and would the opponent stop in concern?
Fat chance.
It'd be an instant beheading.
Just like Karga said, spotting the mana depletion blackout ahead of time was a solid gain.
No such thing in the game.
Now that it was real, I could push mana to the absolute limit.
"Either way..., my current combat time caps at ten minutes..."
Skilled on-off toggling of 'Quartet of the Wind' might stretch it a few minutes more.
But fights don't go according to plan.
I set my max limit at ten minutes.
"Hoo..., let's do this."
I clenched my fist, steeling myself for the life-or-death match ahead.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "“Waaaaaaaaah!!”"
Clang! Claaang!
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Ahh! Bust Gladiator's strike has Hopking on the ropes!! Will Hopking's streak end today?! Amid the deafening cheers and the announcer's even louder voice.
Elena of the fairykin sat in the VIP seats, arms crossed, gazing indifferently at the arena.
"Haha, coming to watch matches like this again today. It must suit your tastes more than expected, miss."
"Yes... It's more interesting than I thought."
Elena gave a vague reply to the elf noble seated beside her.
'Honestly..., these barbaric matches aren't that fun...'
The few purebloods in the VIP seats probably felt the same as Elena.
The reason they bothered watching.
To scout and buy capable combat slaves.
With the millennium war raging, high-performance combat slaves were in demand across all races' nations.
But for Elena, that wasn't her only reason for watching.
'...Has that mongrel appeared yet?'
The event match she'd seen just recently.
The techniques that mongrel had displayed.
She wanted to confirm them with her own eyes again.
And soon enough.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Al—right!! For your break time, folks! We're holding a special event match!! "“Waaaaaaaaah!!!”"
"Hey, hey!! Been waiting for this!!"
"Show us already!!"
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Hahaha! So pumped for the event match—don't know where to put myself! Without further ado, let's introduce them!! 'Here it comes.'
Elena's bored eyes sharpened at the announcer's voice.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ The mongrel combat slave who shocked us last event match!! Seven mongrels including Number 17 combat slave!! "“Uwaaaaaah—!!!”"
Cheers erupted from the stands at the announcer's introduction.
Number 17 combat slave.
The tale of the mongrel who toppled a quarter dwarf against all odds had Parion buzzing.
Sold out arena today as a result.
Elena, back for this week's matches, straightened up and focused on the arena.
'Really..., a mongrel using the great grandmaster's techniques...?'
To verify the unbelievable once more.
And then.
"Oh? Ohhh? Who's this? Isn't it our fairykin princess?"
"......Tch."
A familiar annoying voice approached Elena.
'Figured she'd show up...'
Elena clicked her tongue and turned to face her.
"Oh my, heehee, Nikia. What a coincidence. Never thought I'd meet the dwarf nobility's darling here..."
"Ahaha, heard a fun mongrel fighter showed up recently. Just happened to be nearby!"
Petite, girl-like appearance.
But her mature chest size proved she was an adult.
Nikia Rubiak.
The pureblood dwarf lady from the nation long at odds with Elena's fairykin homeland.
"So? What brings the noble fairykin miss to a barbaric match like this?"
"Heehee, no reason. We enjoy these savage spectacles from time to time. Ah, do you dwarves watch this stuff every day?"
"Yup, every day. Hiding in the woods sipping tea like cowards doesn't suit us."
Ahaha.
Heeheehut.
The nearby elf noble shuddered and quietly excused himself at their laughter.
Nikia smoothly took his seat and said,
"Ah! It's starting! Mind if I watch from here?"
"Not at all."
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Alright!! Next up!! Facing the hot Number 17 mongrel team is none other than—the shield-and-sword Bastion Brothers—!! "“Uwaaaaaah!!!”"
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ We've got mongrels on this side too!! Now, how will Number 17 handle fellow mongrel fighters!!! "Ahh, mongrels are like that. Ugly ones are butt-ugly, hot ones are passable."
"Mixed with chaotic bloodlines too. Elf-mixed mongrels are decent enough."
Watching the hulking, brutish mongrel brothers enter, Nikia and Elena unusually agreed.
The match began.
"Ooh! That's the rumored Number 17 slave!"
Nikia and Elena's eyes changed as Number 17 entered, wielding a head-sized battle axe.
'Indeed..., truly the Quartet of the Wind...'
Then the mongrel brothers clashed with Number 17's team.
——Kwaaaang!!
Elena widened her eyes, etching his techniques into memory.
Comparing them to the legendary arts she'd heard of.
And then.
"Eek, eeeeeek—!!"
"Kyaa! What, what's that? Suddenly!"
The one yelping in shock wasn't Elena—it was Nikia.
"Th-That, that's...!"
Her short arms trembled as she pointed at the arena.
There, the shield-wielding brother Gun was charging Number 17, axes colliding.
And from the axe blocking Gun's attack.
Golden sparks flew.
"That's..., our great ancestor's...!"
Nikia stared in disbelief at his weapon.
No mistake.
Impossible to missee.
No way such radiant gold could be coincidence.
"On a mongrel of all things..., our great ancestor's...?!"
"Pardon...?"
The dwarf called the god of artisans.
Morduin's blessing dwelled in a mere mongrel's weapon.