Chapter 23: Hierarchy - 5
Chapter 23: Hierarchy - 5
The gate opened and the Purple champion emerged.
He was humanoid in shape, but a giant of a figure—standing close to two meters thirty.
A Giant. The difference from a human was not merely size, but the number of arms.
He had four.
Those four arms, those four hands, held an axe, a spear, a longsword, and a shield.
An opponent far larger than himself approached, his footsteps echoing. The armaments alone gave off a menacing air, but Jiha remained composed.
Quadoran entered the arena and scanned the spectator stands, his gaze landing on the Mana-powered betting board. He scowled.
Jiha versus Quadoran. Jiha's odds were 3.0.
A bet on Jiha paid triple, meaning the overwhelming majority had wagered on Quadoran.
"Is everyone an idiot? Only 3.0? Shouldn't it be at least 7.0?"
Quadoran seemed to take the relatively modest odds against Jiha as an insult to his pride.
"Plenty of idiots around, true. I don't know what those suckers see in you to throw their money away like that."
Jiha's reply was placid, and Quadoran glared at him.
"You human bastard..."
"Ah, hold on. Shut up a second. I've got something important to discuss."
Jiha addressed the emcee, the Rabbit Woman.
"The money I won in the fourth match. Can I bet it on myself?"
"Excuse me?"
"I'm asking if I can place a wager on my own victory."
"Ah, one moment please..."
The Rabbit Woman, flustered, hurriedly flipped through the rulebook.
Spectators gambled on the outcomes of the Summoning War, and a set percentage went to the fighters. But there was no precedent for a fighter betting on himself.
"Fighter Jiha, your payout from the fourth match comes to 42 million Rel. However, betting on oneself is unprecedented..."
Commons were generally indifferent to money. Slaves with money could at best buy weapons and armor; whatever was left, most of them blew on a spree on the days they were granted leave. A slave's life, with no guarantee of tomorrow—why scrimp? Why earn?
But Jiha was thinking ahead. He intended to accumulate wealth.
"Then I'll be the first. All of it. On me."
"That is..."
The Rabbit Woman hesitated, and Jiha looked toward the spectator stands, toward Enril.
Enril considered for a moment, then nodded.
"Ah, understood. Then Fighter Jiha, you will be wagering 42 million Rel on yourself. Should you win, this amount will be paid out at the same rate as the spectator odds."
The instant the Rabbit Woman finished speaking, Jiha's odds dropped to 2.5. The sudden influx of a large sum had shifted the line.
Still, if Jiha won, his 42 million Rel bet would multiply by 2.5, earning him 105 million Rel. Combined with his separate winner's purse, his total assets would easily surpass 150 million.
"You lunatic. You actually think you can win?"
Quadoran, who had been watching, spat irritably.
"Stop flapping your gums. Why don't you bet everything you've got too? If you're so confident, why not?"
"Even if I bet..."
Quadoran's odds were 1.1. A 10 million bet would return only 11 million. If Quadoran put down serious money, the odds would fall even further.
Jiha asked, "And you still don't see what your problem is?"
"What?"
"You looked too strong."
Jiha fixed his gaze on the Giant's four arms, his four weapons. Against Commons who fought on raw physical ability, that kind of armament was practically cheating.
"A fight needs to be a close thing to be worth watching. You're no money-maker."
"What the hell does that mean?"
Quadoran looked flabbergasted. Jiha sneered at his shortsightedness.
"You're an idiot who's never once thought about what the Summoning War is actually pursuing. You just got summoned, figured you'd fight mindlessly and win, and that was that. So you went and happily bought up those massive swords and shields."
"Yeah, so? What's wrong with that?"
"Right. Because you're going to die here today."
Quadoran decided this was an absurd provocation and let his fury take hold. Gritting his teeth, he snapped at the Rabbit Woman.
"Start the match already!"
"Ah, understood. Then, Winner..."
Before the Rabbit Woman could finish, Quadoran was already moving. As he came on in a wild rush, Jiha let out a dry laugh.
Spear, sword, and axe gleamed with a keen edge. Each was a weapon reinforced with Mana. Even if Jiha bolstered his own body with Mana, it would be a struggle to endure them.
Baujing's club was just a plain weapon, but...
A direct hit from a Mana weapon backed by a Giant's strength would mean death.
Moreover, Jiha was barehanded. To land a blow, he'd have to evade the attacks and close in, and his opponent also carried a tower shield.
I must look overwhelmingly disadvantaged.
With that thought, Jiha leaped sideways and fled.
"You really do love running away, don't you!"
"I'm giving you time to write your will. Not grateful?"
"All mouth, you little human shit. Just let me catch you! I'll cut you into six pieces!"
Quadoran gnashed his teeth and gave chase. Jiha kept running, maintaining distance, evading. He could feel the spectators' bated breath intensifying, and slowly, he stopped fleeing.
Now, so far so good...
With the sun at his back, Jiha's shadow stretched out before him.
The charging Quadoran slashed his sword horizontally and brought his axe down in a vertical arc. Jiha threw himself into a roll and slipped through the follow-up attacks with ease. Each strike carried overwhelming force, but he could dodge them well enough.
"Are you just going to keep scurrying like a rat? How much longer!"
Quadoran grew heated and kept swinging sword and axe, and Jiha allowed himself a faint smile.
"I was just about to start counterattacking anyway."
"I'll split your skull! Hraaaah!"
The axe in his left arm and the sword in his right flew in simultaneously, and Jiha lunged forward. Quadoran's eyes lit up at the moment he'd been waiting for.
Foolish human!
He had anticipated that Jiha would try to close the reach advantage. A human in midair can't maneuver freely. And Jiha's shadow was now a good distance away from Quadoran.
Quadoran smirked with smug satisfaction. His feigned headlong rage had been meant to draw out precisely this situation—a chance to kill Jiha outside the range of Shadow Hand.
"Got you!"
Quadoran timed it perfectly and thrust the spear held in his waiting third arm. Even if Jiha survived this attack, Quadoran could simply block the front with his fourth arm's tower shield, and that would be the end of it.
"Yeah, you got caught."
Jiha smiled, and Quadoran realized something had gone terribly wrong.
CRAAACK!
A blow struck from below, and Quadoran's jaw gaped open. The strength drained from all four of his arms at once. A shattering impact surged up into his groin.
"Wh-what..."
Jiha's shadow had stretched to an eerie length. A hand had risen from its far end and obliterated Quadoran's groin. A hand capable of seizing up to two hundred kilograms had ripped into his lower abdomen, and blood came streaming down.
"Glad it wasn't my actual hand."
"Uh, ugh..."
Quadoran staggered and collapsed to his knees. The sudden impact from below, the pain, left him unable to control his body.
Jiha tsked.
"It was too obvious you were just pretending to lose your head."
"H-how..."
"I could see you keeping that shield ready to move at any moment. And as time went on, you stopped using the spear much. If you'd really been seeing red, you wouldn't have been so careful about your front and back."
"That... that alone told you?"
Jiha continued cynically.
"As soon as I dodged, you said I really love running away, right? When did we ever meet? That means you already did your research on me."
"..."
"You found out that I dodge for a while, then rush in and finish it in one move. That I have limited endurance. And that Shadow Hand has a limited range. You checked it all, didn't you? Probably watched the fourth match, too."
Quadoran sucked in ragged breaths. Jiha was exactly right. Quadoran had even secretly observed his fourth match. He'd seen him dodge the Minotaur's charge, thrown out that thoughtless remark, and Jiha had read him that far.
"So your plan was to bait me into charging, then skewer me with that third spear. Game over. All while being careful to stay out of Shadow Hand's reach. Obvious calculation."
"B-but then..."
"There was one thing you didn't know."
As Jiha spoke, the tip of his shadow gave a twitch, then stretched out further. Shadow Hand's range was limited to his shadow—but after drinking Enril's blood twice, he could now shrink and extend the shadow itself to a certain degree.
He had kept that fact hidden right until his duel with Quadoran. And instead of using it immediately, he'd launched his counterattack the moment Quadoran was sure of victory.
"People let their guard down most right when they think they've won. Don't you agree?"
"Ku, urgh..."
Quadoran forced himself upright even as blood streamed from his groin. He was gravely wounded, but he could still move. He still had his weapons. If he could just kill Jiha quickly and get to a healer, he might survive—
"You know why I'm telling you all this so nicely?"
"..."
A chill ran down Quadoran's spine. Yes, why was Jiha being so talkative?
"I'm telling you so you can go to the next world and let Hakal know exactly how you died."
The instant those words left his mouth, Jiha's shadow stretched again. Quadoran reflexively brought his sword and axe down on the shadow and covered his groin with his tower shield. It was over-defense triggered by the trauma of having his groin destroyed.
And that was exactly what Jiha had aimed for. A beat later, Jiha was already charging straight at him.
Quadoran's head snapped up and he thrust his spear, but Jiha was drawing the sword he'd kept hidden.
A... normal sword.
It couldn't possibly beat a Mana-infused spear—a reinforced spear worth 20 million Rel. Just as Quadoran thought that, blue Mana coiled around Jiha's blade as if mocking him.
Clang!
With one light swing, Jiha knocked the spear aside, then swung a second time.
Slice!
With a chilling sound, Quadoran's head rose into the air. Jiha beheaded the Giant in passing and landed softly on the ground.
The Giant's headless body convulsed, spraying blood like a fountain.
If I drank that, would I grow four arms?
At this point, drinking a Common's blood barely increased his Mana. He could obtain a temporary Special Ability that lasted a day, but he didn't need one now.
Above all, the spectators were watching. Jiha kept clear of the blood and observed Quadoran's final moments.
Everything had gone according to his plan.
Quadoran was a schemer in his own right, but Jiha, who had concealed his ability and factored in Quadoran's cunning, had been a step ahead. Killing Quadoran in one blow was difficult, so he had deliberately targeted the groin to inflict a psychological shock, then scattered his focus at the end to take the head easily.
"That went more or less as expected..."
"Ah, Fighter Jiha! Victorious in the end! He has avenged his friend, the Ogre Hakal!"
The Rabbit Woman shouted with great fanfare, and the spectators threw their hands up.
"Waaaaah!"
"He really kept his word! Incredible! To think he'd kill Quadoran too!"
"What a magnificent man!"
Cheers and applause, blown kisses rained down, but Jiha's face remained calm. He didn't let himself get carried away. These people had only come to watch slaves put on an entertaining show.
Just then, a woman with platinum-blonde hair rose from the VIP section. A pair of pure white wings adorned her back. A celestial.
A Purple Unique.
"The Summoning War will be suspended for the time being."
Gashiel Remaker spoke the unexpected words.