Chapter 16
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 16: Irion Will Be Free Soon! (3)
Alex is the signboard gladiator of the city Alderin’s underground arena.
Originally, he was a Silver-rank adventurer. A common adventurer found anywhere, making a living by catching demon beasts and completing requests.
The reason such Alex quit adventuring and settled in the arena was simple.
Because of honor, money, and ironically, safety.
Adventures always had many variables. No matter how good your skills are, one mistake leads to death.
In comparison, the returning rewards were always ambiguous. They were not proportional to the suffering.
Only a very few top adventurers took wealth and fame.
Mediocre adventurers lived struggling with pennies that didn't even cover the cost of their lives, then died namelessly.
On the other hand, gladiatorial combat.
Without worrying about being ambushed, you just have to defeat the enemy in front of you and it’s over.
If popularity attaches, money follows naturally. Fame, safety, and money are much more certain than in his adventurer days.
How easy is it.
It was practically heaven, so it was a natural sequence for Alex to be captivated by this simple and comfortable slaughter.
On top of that, when it was said that a Lady from the Edelheid family was coming, he thought the prime of his life was coming.......
But what blocked Alex’s bright future was not some famous gladiator, but a mere——
—Clack!
“What are you thinking about so much? Are you thinking of me?”
The dull sound of wooden swords clashing dragged Alex out of his thoughts.
In front of him is Irion, grinning with swords crossed.
“This bug bastard....”
Alex swung his wooden sword aiming for a vital point, but Irion parried it cleanly.
Not stopping at defense, he boldly stepped forward and switched to offense.
—Clack!
Two wooden swords clashed again, making a cheerful sound.
Every time they exchanged blows, Alex couldn't hide his dumbfounded expression.
‘This is... that guy from back then?’
Clearly, the first impression of Irion was a guy who wouldn't be strange dying at any moment.
His physique is tiny as fuck, his body is skinny, and when he swung a sword, he looked like he would stagger from the weight.
When he used a pickaxe instead, he thought ‘it figures since he’s a former miner’. Even when he survived matches, he thought he was just lucky.
But what is this. Now Irion is swinging a sword, not a pickaxe.
He is not being swayed by the sword, nor is he swinging it randomly. Although it’s a wooden sword, the essence of swordsmanship is contained in its tip.
‘I heard talk that he was receiving training from One-Eye recently, but this is......’
Alex couldn't believe it even while clashing swords with Irion.
It’s been only about 3 weeks since Irion started handling a sword. 3 weeks is a time when just holding a stance is overwhelming.
Is that all?
He is a guy who couldn't even make a squeak let alone resist even when beaten outside.
Whether he has no guts as he looks, he is a coward who tattles to Bardick instead of building strength for revenge.
‘He was such a guy...’
Now he seems like a completely different person.
Neither strength nor swordsmanship lags behind him. It’s a growth rate impossible to explain with words.
“Bastard, what kind of trick did you use...!”
“Ah, this is called training. If you do it, your skill increases. You should do it too.”
Alex’s lips twisted.
Just by exchanging swords with a mere slave, his pride cracked and began to shatter.
He can’t tolerate it anymore.
“Don’t get cocky, cheeky bastard!”
In an instant, Alex’s spirit soared. He swung his sword horizontally.
—Swoosh!
A sound of cutting wind closer to crushing than cutting the air.
“......!”
Irion hurriedly erected his sword to block, but that of Alex could no longer be called swordsmanship.
An absurd sense of weight far exceeding human strength. Violence of ignorant yet destructive power poured over the guard.
—Crash!
The defense was torn like a sheet of paper. Irion’s body was flung away and rolled ungracefully on the sand floor for over ten meters.
“Kugh!”
The air gathered in his stomach burst out in an instant.
Beyond the blurry vision due to dust, he saw Alex wrapping his whole body in blue haze.
‘No mistake.’
The boundary distinguishing ordinary people and superhumans. The foundation of it, body strengthening using mana.
It was the blessing that made Alex reborn as the number one of the underground arena.
Alex gripped his wooden sword again and strode over. He looked down at Irion from high above.
“This is the difference between a gladiator and a slave, you bastard.”
“.......”
Irion spitting out the blood mixed with sand that filled his mouth.
‘What should I do...’
The rational judgment is to stop here. Since this is sparring, not actual combat risking life. But now with a little emotion added.
Alex, pushed in strength, brought out mana, and no one would blame Irion, a slave, for not overcoming that wall.
No, rather, just pressuring Alex was an astonishing achievement.
However, something hot surged up from the bottom of Irion’s chest.
‘...I want to clash.’
I still have cards left. Using it might cause harm to my body, but I still want to test it.
The instinct of a fighter that isn't rational, wanting to test how far his full power reaches.
‘Just once.’
Anyway, this is training.
If not now, there is no time to test.
It would be trouble if I saved it for nothing and it didn't work in actual combat later, right?
Justifying it like that, Irion closes his eyes. Starts to control his breath slowly.
Like putting firewood into a furnace, he blows oxygen into the mana core located deep in his lower abdomen.
The mana contained in the core rides the circuit and flows back, forcibly heating up the body.
“I told you before sparring. Since you walked into this first, don’t cry even if your limbs break. With this opportunity, I will clearly engrave into your body what your position is.”
Alex, who concentrated mana, launched a thrust aiming for Irion’s arm. A blue flash rushed cutting through the air.
Irion raising his head. At the same time, he pushed the floor with his hands and feet. He threw his body unhesitatingly towards the flying sword.
Golden pupils drawn like threads.
Momentarily twisted his head.
Irion’s figure grazes the side of the sword Alex thrust.
A difference of a sheet of paper.
The moment Alex’s eyes widened in shock, Irion, who caught the blind spot, extended his arm.
The wooden sword shot like a ray of light aiming for the defenseless Alex’s face.
Just as it was about to pierce the skull like that.
—Pop!
Along with the sound of air bursting, the wooden sword held in Irion’s hand shattered into pieces.
The wooden sword, which had cracks due to defending Alex’s blow just before, couldn't withstand the force and crumbled.
The tip of the broken wooden sword stopped right in front of Alex’s face.
—Whoosh!
Alex’s hair fluttered roughly backward as if facing a storm head-on.
In front of him, Irion stood holding out the wooden sword with only the handle remaining.
“......What? What happened? Did Alex lose?”
“Ei, the blackie’s sword broke. Since they can’t spar anymore, the blackie lost.”
“Right? But what was that just now....”
The chatter of the watching gladiators didn't reach Alex’s ears.
He couldn't take his eyes off Irion.
Beyond the dust created by the sword wind, the brilliantly shining golden eye-glow.
The moment he faced it, Alex stiffened like a statue. Just the aftermath of the blow that didn't even touch caused tremors all over his body.
Because those eyes were the eyes evoked by top-tier experts he saw in his past adventurer days. A glimpse of that was seen in Irion.
‘I felt a similar feeling to them from a mere slave? This Alex?’
It makes no sense.
It’s impossible.
But the lingering scent of the cool sword wind that grazed his cheek, and the goosebumps on his standing skin prove that it is undeniable reality.
Moreover, the strange movement just now was undoubtedly.......
“Tsk.”
Alex, who was looking down at Irion, clicked his tongue disapprovingly, turned his body, and moved his steps.
To Alex who didn't settle the outcome, the gladiators asked in doubt.
“What happened, Alex? Weren't you going to cripple the blackie’s arm?”
“Get lost.”
Alex, who responded with curses instead of explanation, left the arena with angry strides.
Everyone just tilted their heads at his back.
Meanwhile, Irion left alone reviewed the battle just now.
‘Swordsmanship worked.’
As if claiming that the proficiency evolved to [Low Grade Swordsmanship] wasn't meaningless numbers, it did its job properly.
Plus, you see as much as you know.
Learning swordsmanship, I can vaguely predict what action the opponent will take next.
The fact that I can exchange blows even if I can’t overwhelm Alex was a big harvest for Irion.
The problem was mana.
‘Lots of parts to supplement.’
Irion touched his wrist.
The body couldn't handle the explosive output when the body was momentarily strengthened.
It was fortunate the sword broke just now; if I mistook the distance control, I almost split Alex’s head open.
Even that sword breaking wasn't intended, but because I couldn't control the power.
‘Still, I saw the possibility.’
There are many immature parts, but if I polish it more, it is fully usable in actual combat.
Of course, various proficiencies and skills are limited to physical abilities. Assistance is just assistance, fighting is strictly Irion’s share.
Just like no matter how good the hardware is, it’s a shiny apricot (useless) if the software doesn't follow.
In that sense, Irion showed considerable prominence in the combat sector. Enough to wonder if he has innate talent.
‘I should have studied well instead.’
Anyway, I’ve been good only at useless things since long ago.
Still, thanks to that, the direction is clearly set.
Training, and training again.
The stronger the opponent, the more proficiency rises.
Which means.
“Hey. Let me hit you a bit.”
“......?”
Alex lying on the bed stares blankly. Seems he can’t grasp the situation.
“What are you doing not getting up. Scared you’ll lose again?”
“...Has this bastard really gone crazy. Fine, I’ll really kill you today.”
Next day.
“Hey. Let’s fight.”
“Lowly slave bastard. Today I will really kill you.”
The day after that.
“Come out. Let’s have a round.”
“Look at the way a begging bastard talks. This won’t do. That habit your mother couldn't fix, I’ll fix it firmly with this opportunity.”
Next.
“Hey.”
“Are you in heat? Not having a single day off. Wait a little. I’ll go after finishing what I was doing.”
.
.
.
“Why aren't you asking to spar today?”
“My match is the day after tomorrow so I’m resting.......”
“Resting? This bastard lost his mind. Is it time for you to rest right now? Do you want to rest forever? Don’t talk bullshit and come out. I’ll really beat you to a pulp today.”
Throughout the remaining period, I carried out Bardick’s orders, sparred with Alex, and pulled my proficiency up to the maximum.
Like that, 2 weeks passed in a flash.
“Are you ready, Irion?”
“Of course.”
The day to grasp freedom has come.