Ding Bbaet
Three days.
Thirin had waited a full three days for the duel trial.
She'd only brought up the concept of a duel trial after hearing about it while living as a beggar, but she hadn't expected it to take this long.
The reason it took three whole days just to have a sword fight in the empty lot right in front of them was ridiculous.
Apparently, they needed to safely transport some object called the 'Goddess's Scales' all the way here for the duel trial to take place.
Damn bureaucracy was no different in this other world. It seemed paperwork approvals and equipment rental lists were more important than human lives.
Still, during those three days, Thirin had a pretty decent time in the solitary cell the empire provided.
Peter kept bringing her bread to eat, and the bed was cozy with no bugs, wind, or raindrops.
'This is why people pay taxes.'
In civilized society, taxes came back as unexpected welfare like this. Of course, Thirin had never paid taxes, so this was pure, unadulterated benefit theft.
Anyway, she was pretty satisfied.
And finally, the shitty morning of the so-called duel-or-whatever-the-fuck day arrived.
-Creeeeak.
The rusted hinges screamed as the door opened. The security officer who opened it wouldn't even make eye contact with Thirin. He was ridiculously tense.
"I'm not gonna eat you or anything."
"Hiiik?!"
'Ugh, what an idiot.'
Thirin clicked her tongue and looked around.
The 'evidence' sitting in one corner of the security office was still there. No one had touched Heres's sword because it was supposedly stained with the witch's blood.
Thirin picked up the evidence—Heres's sword—and walked outside.
Her sensitive hearing picked up the security officers whispering. Nonsense about her being a witch and all that.
Just three days ago they'd treated her like a crazy beggar woman, but her social status had skyrocketed. At this rate, she might get promoted to demon by next week.
Thirin followed the security officer's escort to the duel site.
The duel location wasn't far from the empty lot where Heres's head had gotten twisted. It was a bit wider and flatter, which apparently made it better for spectators. A so-called advantage that wasn't much of one.
The ground, sparsely covered with weeds, was dry, kicking up dust with every step.
When Thirin arrived fashionably late, the mercenaries were already swarming one side of the lot.
Their armor ranged from dented and rusted to shiny new, and their weapons went from rusty kitchen knives to fairly expensive-looking longswords. Every kind imaginable.
A group with zero uniformity—the very definition of the word 'mercenary' given physical form.
Among them, Thirin spotted some familiar faces. The ones who'd abandoned Heres and run away with their tails between their legs.
The moment they saw her, they muttered something in fear.
Your presence has triggered the 'Witch' title effect.
Those who believe you are a witch feel extreme terror at your existence!
Thirin ignored the system spouting nonsense and looked at the bear-like man standing arrogantly in front.
Bjorn, the mercenary leader.
He had a longsword at his waist and a massive greatsword on his back.
Thirin thought carrying two weapons made him look like a department store mannequin wearing way too many layers of ugly Christmas sweaters, but setting that aside, Bjorn had quite an impressive face.
A face full of rage.
Thirin was impressed looking at that expression.
'I don't get why that bear isn't acting. He's making that face even though he's not actually angry. Is it because he's too ugly to pull it off?'
Thirin sighed.
'To think I have to bury such a talented person with my own hands. If he'd been born in the right era, he'd have been Oscar material. This is truly a great loss for humanity.'
Thirin possessed a cosmopolitan, all-humanity-is-family sense of love for mankind.
Soon after, the villagers parted with murmurs as the priest from the Pantheon Temple appeared with dignified steps.
The priest wore formal vestments, but the most eye-catching thing was the eyepatch he wore.
Despite the eyepatch, he moved without hesitation, as if he could see perfectly. It must have been one of the Pantheon's powers.
The villagers slightly bowed their heads in respect toward the priest, but the man himself looked tired and annoyed.
Must be how a civil servant feels getting dragged out to watch someone else's fight on a weekend morning.
Thirin felt a slight sense of kinship.
In the priest's hand was a heavy brass scale engraved with the image of the blindfolded goddess.
'So that's the weird thing I had to wait three days for.'
Its official name was the Scales of the Goddess of Sword and Blindfold.
The scales themselves belonged to the Pantheon Temple, but the imperial army kept them in storage, so it took time to officially 'export' them.
Thirin thought it was pointless, but it was apparently one of the empire's policies to keep the church in check.
When the priest raised the scales, the villagers, security officers, and mercenaries all held their breath without exception.
The priest spoke.
"As the representative of the Pantheon Temple, I declare: Today's duel trial is a sacred procedure to determine justice by borrowing the will of the Goddess of Sword and Blindfold. Everyone, approach it with a reverent heart."
The priest continued while holding the scales.
"Each of you shall declare the reason for the duel before the scales. The scales will judge the legitimacy of your cause. If the cause is not justified, the duel will not be established."
Thirin felt a yawn coming on.
Why do you need to go on and on about reasons just to have a sword fight? In a wuxia world, you'd just stab someone because you didn't like their face.
Thirin had some slight misunderstandings about wuxia.
Her way of thinking wasn't like any of the major factions in wuxia—the righteous sects, the evil cults, or the demonic cults.
Her mindset was closer to that of a third-rate street thug from the demonic path or the black dao.
The priest kept droning on about the duel rules.
"Depending on the outcome of the duel, the winner shall gain full authority over the loser. The loser must completely submit to the winner's disposal."
The priest solemnly addressed Thirin and Bjorn.
"Now, declare your reasons."
Since he didn't single anyone out, it seemed the order didn't matter.
Thirin had been slightly annoyed for a while now.
Legitimacy and all that nonsense—what the hell was this dogshit procedure?
She wanted to get beaten up quickly, gain Physical Realization quickly, obtain martial arts quickly, and achieve Rebirth quickly.
She had no idea that her way of thinking was the furthest thing from Enlightenment.
Thirin spat out,
"I don't get why you keep looking for reasons. What, if my sword fight is more justified, does the god give me a blessing or something? Let me use lightning magic?"
"That is correct."
"Yeah, of course you'd let me use lightning breath... wait, what?!"
The priest slightly tilted his head toward Thirin.
"Do not mock the sacred procedure, woman. The Goddess of Sword and Blindfold will certainly intervene."
The priest slightly lifted the scales in his hand. The brass scales reflected a faint light.
"These scales are not mere decoration. They weigh the balance between justification and truth. And they will tip toward the side that is more justified and closer to the truth."
The priest paused to catch his breath.
"The one toward whom the scales tip will receive the goddess's gaze. The justified party will stand beneath the goddess's eyes, and her blessing will dwell in his sword. Conversely, the unjustified party will fight within the goddess's silence. Their steps may grow heavy, or their blade may become dull."
"...Hmm."
In the world Thirin originally came from, that blindfolded goddess statue symbolized something like judicial power displays or 'no punishment without evidence.' She had thought of it that superficially.
So it's not like that.
Thirin felt like she vaguely understood the meaning.
So raw power isn't everything.
She wondered if this barbaric fantasy world might actually be more advanced than the murim world or modern society.
Thirin shook off the self-threatening thoughts and said,
"Then, what, even a kid like Hans could twist that bear's neck if his reason is justified enough?"
"...."
The priest didn't answer. But Thirin's beggar-like intuition pierced right through his inner thoughts.
'This bastard thinks I'm a pathetic beggar bitch.'
Your understanding of others has increased!
Deepen your understanding to gain Enlightenment!
'This half-bald bastard...!'
To be honest, even Thirin thought she'd said something pretty pathetic. But being insulted was another matter entirely, so she got angry.
The priest had never uttered a single curse.
Anyway, after Thirin's words, a brief silence fell.
Everyone held their breath, watching to see who would speak first.
Then movement came from an unexpected direction. The villagers.
"E-excuse me... Priest! I have something to say!"
It was a trembling voice, but it carried courage. It was Martha, the bakery widow.
Martha was tightly holding her daughter Vera's hand. She still looked terrified, but there was also a hint of determination.
"Priest! This woman... she was trying to stop Heres from abusing us, mother and daughter... that's how it happened! Heres...!"
Martha's voice trembled, but her words were clear.
She began to testify carefully about what had happened the previous day.
Seeing Martha's courage, a few other villagers nodded and began murmuring as well.
"I... I have something to say too."
Perhaps Martha's courage had been the signal flare.
This time, another woman stepped forward with even more unsteady steps than Martha.
It was Merye. The woman from Wilson's tavern.
Thirin's sharp eyesight could still see the faint bruise marks on Merye's cheek.
Merye looked far more terrified than Martha, but she clenched both fists and spoke in a trembling voice.
"Heres... he hit me... many times. There were many days he didn't pay... and in front of the customers... he humiliated me..."
As Merye spoke, something seemed to burst inside her. She glared at the mercenaries and shouted in a voice filled with malice.
"That bastard... was a son of a bitch! Trash! If he was in a bad mood, he'd beat people like animals...!"
Her voice cracked with sobs.
"If that person over there hadn't been there yesterday... Vera might have ended up like me! That bastard deserved to die!"
Merye's desperate cry was like pouring oil on a fire.
The murmuring swelled like a wave.
Accusations about the mercenaries' usual misbehavior started pouring out from everywhere, accompanied by pointing fingers.
"They stole my chickens too!"
"They've been running up tabs for months without paying!"
"I heard rumors they kidnap women at night...!"
The murmuring grew louder and louder until it became a single voice. Thirin stared at the scene in a daze.
Martha, who had spoken first, kept glancing around fearfully.
Following her gaze, Thirin saw Peter nodding lightly as if to say it was okay.
'That old man. He really went and stirred things up.'
Thirin clicked her tongue, guessing Peter's intentions. He seemed to be trying to get the goddess's blessing for her.
As the villagers began stepping forward one by one, the mercenaries started murmuring in confusion.
Thirin turned to look at Bjorn, but he said nothing. He simply gave a slight nod to the side.
Then a bull-like, hulking man stepped forward and shouted.
"Ha! How ridiculous. Are you saying the grumbling of one whore and an old woman is more important than our vice-leader's life?"
The bull with blue paint smeared on his face scanned the villagers like they were insects and continued.
"Even if we say Heres made some mistakes. That doesn't justify this crazy bitch arbitrarily snapping someone's neck and killing him! Besides, that bitch wasn't even the one getting beaten like some whore! She butted into someone else's business and committed murder!"
As he spoke, the bull seemed to get angrier at himself and started yelling at the villagers.
"You vermin! This cannot stand! This cannot be the reward for risking our lives to protect the empire from demonic beasts!"
The bullhead turned to glare at Thirin.
"You beggar bitch, you're nothing but a murderer. No matter how much these vermin spout nonsense, that fact doesn't change! We have every right to take revenge!"
Thirin looked at him with a serious face. It wasn't because she was worried his words would move the scales.
She was on the verge of exploding with rage for a completely different reason.
She'd waited days for this duel trial just to get martial arts and achieve Rebirth quickly. And now that the day had finally come, she had to listen to all this babbling about reasons for sword fighting.
Yet this idiot with a bullhead instead of a brain was proudly spouting off about his trash personality. And on top of that, he had something Thirin didn't.
Thirin had to go through all that dogshit nonsense of Rebirth just to get it back, but this guy already had it!
'How can a personality-ruined moron like him have something I don't? What am I lacking?'
What was she lacking compared to an idiot who thought that since he caught demonic beasts, he could beat women, kick old ladies, steal money, and eat stolen chickens? These guys didn't even catch them for free—they got paid for it.
Even his terrible fashion sense fueled Thirin's anger.
Wearing a necklace made of who-knows-what feathers and animal bones that looked like he'd ripped them off some crow.
Thirin was about to blow her top at fate's prank, but as a civilized person, she held it in for now.
"I haven't seen your face before. What's your name?"
"My name is Gordo. And I'm the one who's going to execute you, beggar bitch."
At Thirin's question, the bull slammed his gauntlets together with a loud clang.
He probably thought it looked impactful, but Thirin just found it pathetic.
'As expected, martial artists are all idiots.'
Humans had evolved to use long-range weapons. Martial artists were the ones who went directly against that evolution.
It was truly fascinating to Thirin that she'd witnessed a primitive barbarian Neanderthal-cow hybrid in this other world, but she didn't show it as she said,
"If you were a real man, you wouldn't be jumping in to avenge the man who beat a woman instead of the woman who slept with him."
"Ha, why should I care about a whore like that!"
"...."
At Gordo's words, Thirin thought carefully.
Come to think of it, she'd never seen this guy in the village. Just to make sure, she asked Merye,
"Has this bastard ever come as a customer?"
At Thirin's question, Merye shook her head with a terrified face.
"Then...."
Thirin finally understood how things were going.
She looked at Gordo with pitying eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"...What?"
"I didn't know Heres was your boyfriend. No wonder you were defending the guy who beats women. It seemed weird."
"You crazy bitch...!"
"Your revenge is justified. Of course you have to avenge your boyfriend. The goddess will surely give you her blessing."
Someone from the mercenaries' side laughed. It seemed it wasn't completely baseless nonsense after all.
Gordo glared at Thirin with a face red as a tomato.
"....Beggar bitch. I'll cut out that tongue of yours."
At those words, Thirin felt her vision turn red.
The memories of those hellish six months flashed through her mind like lightning.
After barely regaining the tiny bit of muscle after enduring that hellish time, this guy was saying he'd cut it off again? This pathetic bullhead bastard?
Thirin finally reached her boiling point.
"These idiots always go on about tongues every single day. Is that all you know how to say?"
Thirin slightly lifted her mask to hook it over her nose and opened her mouth.
Gordo felt a momentary surge of lust at the glimpse of her face, but he was thrown into confusion by what Thirin did next.
"Cut it, cut it then you son of a bitch! Ebebebebebebebebebebe!"
"This crazy beggar bitch has lost her mind..."
"Cut it I said! Pepepeppepepepepepet! Peroperoperororororor!"
"That... her mind..."
"Hurry up and cut it! Hololololorororororolerolerolerolero!"
"...."
If you were to personify the expression 'going completely berserk,' it would look exactly like Thirin right now.
Gordo was slightly intimidated.
He could now understand why the guys who'd been with Heres had called her a witch and feared her. Thirin's behavior was that bizarre.
"...."
Even Bjorn, watching from the side, looked slightly horrified.
This woman hadn't shown this side when she was with the security officers. She'd seemed cold and calculating, but now she was rampaging like a genuine crazy witch.
Bjorn couldn't understand why Thirin was getting so worked up.
In truth, even Thirin herself didn't know. Why she was getting so pissed off.
Thirin's excited, bewitching red tongue flicked like a snake hissing...
"Horororororolpepepebebebporeleroreperolerodingbbaet!"
...............Thirin's tongue wasn't so much like a snake as it was flopping around like a mackerel thrown onto a fish market floor.
"W-witch...!"
The mercenaries who saw Thirin's tongue writhing strangely screamed. They were the idiots who'd been with Heres.
"It's the witch! The witch is using evil sorcery!"
"The witch is casting a curse!"
"That's not a human tongue!"
"The Tongue Witch! Heres died to that tongue too!"
Your bizarre behavior has strengthened the 'Witch' title effect!
Your incomprehensible actions are being perceived as evil sorcery, maximizing the targets' fear!
The Witch's notoriety is beginning to spread!
"Kyaaaaaaaah!!!"
"Cover your ears, cover your eaaaaars!!!!!!!!"
Thirin was dumbfounded. These idiots—maybe she really should have twisted their heads after all.
Thirin didn't hold back.
"Shut up! Before I twist your heads off!"
"!!!"
The mercenaries clamped both hands over their mouths.
Thirin found the sight quite pleasing.