Chapter 105
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Ranking Battle
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Staying with the Dark Cultists was far more tedious than I'd secretly anticipated.
It had only been a couple of days, but already facing these guys was starting to wear on me. Cruel, merciless bastards who wasted every spare moment on their boring prayers.
And the cramped room was just icing on the cake.
Thud!!
Woojin's head smacked into the ceiling.
Startled, he ducked down low. Sleep vanished in an instant. Rubbing his head, he looked up at the ceiling.
A large crack had formed right where his crown had hit. Woojin scowled at the sight.
'Ah... damn it. What am I, Mario?'
He'd smashed the ceiling with his head. A mishap caused by forgetting how low the dorm ceiling was.
He poked at the broken edge with his fingertips. Luckily, it hadn't punched through to the floor above, but tiny bits of sawdust kept trickling down.
The room was already full of defects, and now it was even worse. Woojin scratched his chin awkwardly, then just pretended not to notice and headed outside.
It didn't matter if the ceiling was busted. After today, he wouldn't have to use that room anyway.
'Just win the ranking battle.'
Once he claimed victory in today's ranking battle and climbed to a higher position, he'd get a larger, cleaner dorm to match.
He stepped out of the dorm building.
After that, things proceeded as usual. He went to the grand cathedral with the Dark Cultists and endured the High Priest's monotonous morning prayer.
"Be patient and wait. On the day His army arrives, the entire world will know that the doctrine we believe in and serve is true. True enlightenment! That alone has the power to drive out the corrupt masses."
As always, the High Priest droned on with empty words wrapped in flowery rhetoric.
After that ordeal of endurance...
"......He is always by our side."
"""He is always by our side!"""
The congregation echoed the final verse together. Their shouts reverberated through the entire grand cathedral. Woojin naturally rose from his seat right after.
He descended underground with the other followers.
Normally, after morning prayer, they'd all share a meal in this basement space. But today's atmosphere was markedly different.
Flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows. The Dark Cultists lined up against the walls, naturally clearing a large empty space in the center.
It looked just like an arena had been formed. The silver-masked priest declared flatly.
"We will begin the ranking battles. Anyone who wishes to participate, step forward."
This was the moment he'd been waiting for.
He stepped out without hesitation. Woojin stood before the priest with his hands clasped behind his back. But he wasn't the only one who'd been eagerly awaiting this. Several other Dark Cultists came forward as well.
About twenty in total. The priest nodded in satisfaction.
"So many eager to prove their worth... A blessed event indeed..."
The priest murmured as his gaze swept over the brooches on the followers' chests, as if checking the challengers' rankings.
Then, his eyes locked onto Woojin. The man stared straight through him.
'......What's this about?'
Woojin was puzzled inwardly.
He hadn't done anything eye-catching. Why was this guy fixating on him?
'Did he figure out who I am?'
Maybe the priest had some kind of discerning eye that pierced through the iron mask to Woojin's true identity.
If so, how should he handle this? As he pondered...
"......Hey, Number 308."
The priest suddenly addressed him. Woojin replied in a calm tone.
"You called?"
"Yeah, I did. What got into you all of a sudden? Why join the ranking battles now?"
Only then did Woojin realize why the priest was interested.
'Number 308 hated participating in ranking battles.'
Moving up to the 200s meant handing off night patrols and other chores to someone else. But that was the last thing Number 308 wanted.
He enjoyed whipping slaves at the work site. Entering the 200s would replace those chores with new duties, so Number 308 had stubbornly clung to his rank.
Apparently, the higher-ups knew about it. Woojin quickly gauged the situation and bowed politely.
"No special reason. I just got tired of staying in the same spot."
"Good thinking."
To serve the great Outer God, one must seek a status worthy of it. Number 308's mindset had grown more devout.
The priest declared.
"The first ranking battle goes to Number 308. Name your desired opponent."
He'd ended up with the first fight. Woojin thought for a moment before speaking.
"......I'll challenge Number 209."
He wanted to pick someone stronger, but this was the limit. Challenges weren't allowed if the rank difference was over 100.
The priest let out a small chuckle.
"Bold one, aren't you? Number 209, step forward."
A follower emerged from the crowd. A massive man with broad shoulders.
He towered a full head over Woojin. Given his bulk, he sucked in a lot of air—his iron mask bobbed with every breath.
Number 209 shoved his hands into his pockets, then pulled them out with a pair of hefty steel knuckles fitted over his fingers.
Crack, crunch—
He clenched his fists tight. Woojin drew his dagger and faced him.
The priest commanded.
"Begin."
As if he'd been waiting for those words, Number 209 exploded forward from the start, kicking off the ground.
The distance closed in a flash.
Number 209 thrust his fist out right in Woojin's face. Heavy power—like a massive grizzly bear swinging its forepaw.
Woojin dodged with a tilt of his head, then jabbed his dagger into the man's side.
Clang!!
The dagger bounced off. A hole in the robe. Peering inside, Woojin narrowed his eyes.
'He's wearing armor under the robe.'
Not ordinary armor. Plate mail forged from frost steel. That explained why the guy looked so enormous.
Number 209 charged again.
Trusting his steel armor, he pressed the attack using innate skills and physical prowess. A style that crushed foes with sheer mass.
Needless to say...
No one could beat Woojin like that. Number 209 was a hefty bull, but compared to him, Woojin was a dinosaur.
Wham—!
He swept a low kick along the ground. A Weightened Wasabari infused with his skill. Number 209's body flipped end over end from the impact.
Thud!!
He slammed face-first into the dirt. The onlookers expected him to get up, but... he lay motionless like he was dead.
It was inevitable.
As he fell, Woojin had positioned a punch right in his path. The uppercut snapped his jaw, knocking him out cold.
Woojin flipped the body over and ripped off the brooch from the robe.
The priest declared the victor belatedly.
"......The winner is Number 308."
Woojin had won, but the victor was Number 308.
'I'm Number 209 from now on.'
He pinned the new brooch to his chest, then tossed his old brooch and room key to the unconscious brute. He'd be demoted to Number 308 and left with the busted-ceiling dorm.
His rank had jumped dozens of spots in one go. But Woojin wasn't satisfied.
"That ended too quick... Can I do one more ranking battle?"
The fight with 209 had wrapped in seconds. His body wasn't even warmed up, and waiting for the next one sounded unbearable.
At his request, the priest crossed his arms thoughtfully before asking.
"Who do you plan to challenge?"
"I'd like to challenge Number 110."
"......You're rushing it. Don't push too hard. Number 209 got careless, but 110's no pushover."
The priest shook his head dubiously. But Woojin pressed on.
"I'm in top form today. Even if I lose, I want the experience."
"You could end up crippled."
"Doesn't matter."
"......Very well, I'll respect your wish."
Persistent as he was, the priest finally nodded. Truth be told, he wanted to see more of Woojin's fights too.
"Number 110. Step forward."
In response, Number 110 emerged from the crowd. Unlike the burly 209, he was short and wiry.
Number 110 and the new Number 209 faced off.
Clap!
Number 110 clapped his hands hard. When he pulled his palms apart, crimson fiery strands stretched between them.
He toyed with the flame strands like playthings. Each gesture doubled their number—like pulling dough by hand.
Woojin asked.
"......We haven't even started yet. Is that allowed?"
The priest hadn't declared the match, so was prepping like that okay?
The priest caught on late. The ranking battle had veered unexpectedly, leaving him more flustered than usual.
"Uh, yeah, get to it."
His words slurred in haste. Woojin sighed inwardly.
'Acting like an idiot...'
Because the priest was fumbling, he had to stand there watching the enemy prepare.
Woojin charged late.
Number 110 thrust his palms forward. Dozens of flame whips coiled around his wrists lashed out.
Like a sea anemone's tentacles unfurling. An unfamiliar ability.
'He wields a rare skill.'
How to break through it?
Time for a test. Woojin took a few steps back and gestured rapidly in the air—like signing.
Suspicious, perhaps? Number 110 rushed in, swinging his flame whips.
Whoosh, fwoosh—!
The whips thrashed wildly around him.
Woojin dodged the incoming flames busily. Using his discerning eye, he read their trajectories. But there were too many to evade entirely.
Soon, several strands wrapped around his arms. Number 110 nodded, certain of victory, but...
Shaaa—
Woojin's palms turned icy blue. A chilling aura poured out. The cold aura on his arms rendered the flame whips harmless.
He inspected the whips.
'A silkworm skill.'
A silkworm larva's ability to spin and control threads, enhanced with fire magic. A technique blending Demonic Realm skills and magic.
Once the trick's exposed, the magic turns into a pathetic joke. Woojin yanked his arms like a tug-of-war.
"Wha, ugh—!"
Number 110 was dragged helplessly. He strained to resist, but soon arrived right in Woojin's face. His arms still bound tight by the threads.
Silkworm beast silk was incredibly tough. Knowing that, Number 110 relaxed.
"What can you do in that state..."
Bam!!
He couldn't finish. Woojin headbutted him square in the face.
......Thump.
Number 110 crumpled like a frog hit by a rock. As he lost consciousness, the threads around Woojin's arms loosened.
He shook off the annoying silk casually, then turned to the priest.
The priest muttered softly.
"......What the hell are you?"
Woojin gave the answer.
"Number 110."