Chapter 105
Chapter 105
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Nymph Cultist and Pluto's Underground Labyrinth
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“Hassan of Samaria. You are in charge of this labyrinth expedition!!”
Hippolyte’s sharp gaze pierced toward my face. Called out when I’d let my guard down for a moment, I couldn’t help but panic.
As I tried to rise from my chair, the surroundings erupted in a huge stir.
“Looks like a barbarian at first glance.”
“Heard he got a weapon and a name straight from the young lady.”
“First time seeing him in person. Wow, exactly like I imagined.”
I wasn’t used to drawing everyone’s attention, so blood rushed Hassan to my face. They’d said I could just sit back as an observer for the conversion ceremony. Who knew there’d be another event like this afterward.
I wasn’t a fan of these surprise parties.
Still, I couldn’t show tension or awkwardness in front of these guys I might compete with for the gold-tier necklace someday.
Putting on an exaggerated air of grandeur, I straightened my shoulders and back and stepped before Hippolyte. Gasps burst out here and there.
“He’s a full head taller than the Amazon Queen. Samaritans really are born warriors from the start. Even their build feels different from continentals.”
“Pfft, what’s so great about being tall? Just makes you a bigger target for arrows.”
“Yeah, next up, dwarf brat. Dwarves have tiny dicks.”
“What’d you say, you fucker?”
“Quiet. Shut it.”
Hippolyte dismissed the growing clamor in the hall.
She then looked up at me, a head taller than her.
Unlike the times she’d shown a human side to Luna and me, her utterly serious expression without a hint of a smile made even me tense up.
She drew a strict line between public and private, it seemed.
“young warrior Hassan, if this goes well, you might advance to silver tier ahead of schedule.”
Advance to silver tier ahead of schedule? I’d heard you needed an average stat of at least 30 to qualify.
My level had sHassan up lately, but I was still far from 30.
“Hippolyte, that’s—”
That true? As I started to ask, someone sHassan up from their seat with a bellow.
“Hippolyte! That’s outrageous!”
Everyone’s eyes locked on the furious voice.
At the center of all those gazes stood a man with a ridiculously long longsword at his hip.
Gray-streaked hair and beard, but his face looked fairly young. Mid-thirties, maybe?
He wore lightweight leather gear, belt, chestplate, and greaves without a gap, looking every bit the veteran. The bronze necklace around his neck was worn from years of use.
At a glance, he screamed seasoned adventurer.
Hippolyte narrowed her eyes at him and spoke.
“You’re fixer Barnes, aren’t you? As rumored, a rude man.”
“Should I be honored the great priestess of Mars knows my name? But I have to say my piece. That’s what makes me rude old Barnes.”
The bronze-tier swordsman called Barnes swept his gaze around.
“We’ve all bled and rolled on the floor for months, years, to earn that silver necklace. Countless gave up or broke. And now, to some greenhorn who’s been here less than a month? Silver tier?”
People glanced at each other at his words. As he said, the adventurers gathered here were veterans on par with Barnes.
Yet most were still bronze tier.
Truth was, most adventurers retired from bronze tier due to major injuries, lost the will, or died.
Unless blessed with insane luck, bronze was the limit for ordinary folk.
“So, I, Barnes, protest this appointment. And I’m not thrilled I wasn’t even included in this expedition to begin with.”
With that, Barnes wrapped it up. His sudden appearance left me feeling like a wedding guest who hadn’t even gotten an invite. Shit, embarrassing.
Then Hippolyte spoke again.
“Barnes Rodelheim. A warrior’s valor isn’t about time served. That’s why your own growth has stalled. Why you’ve lingered in bronze for over five years.”
“That’s harsh, Your Majesty. Aren’t you stuck in silver yourself for years? Word is, some curse has stalled your growth.”
Murmurs rippled at Barnes’s words.
“A curse?”
“Hippolyte’s cursed?”
“So that’s why no gold tier.”
As “curse” buzzed around, Hippolyte stayed unexpectedly silent, her face calmly detached, as if to say it was inevitable.
Taking her silence as affirmation, Barnes pressed on.
“You’re wondering how I know? Stick around this scene long enough, and rumors pile up, even if exploits don’t.”
“Impressive intel, indeed. Worthy of a fixer.”
“Lecturing others when you can’t even handle yourself? Doesn’t that shame the daughter of Mars? Or rather, a gutter rat playing at being Mars’s daughter.”
Hippolyte’s brow furrowed for the first time, though she’d listened impassively till now. It made me tense for no reason.
Would this Barnes guy’s head explode? I didn’t want to see a headless corpse. What gave him the balls to rile her like this? It made me antsy.
But thinking on it, most people in this world were idiots. Too dumb to know they were shoving their hand in a tiger’s mouth.
Still, Hippolyte smoothed her expression without rage.
“Fine, Barnes. You’ve danced around it, but you oppose my decision as priestess.”
“That’s right.”
“Then we’ll settle it warrior-style.”
“Perfect.”
Barnes’s face lit up at Hippolyte’s words.
“Finally, we’re talking sense. Priestess of Mars, Hippolyte! I, Barnes, challenge that barbarian son to a duel right here!!”
Whoa—!
Roars erupted like they’d been waiting. The festive vibe left me utterly dazed.
“Whoa, shit, for real! Barnes! When he goes, he goes!”
“Crazy bastard, picking a fight with a Samaritan? Doesn’t value his life. Got two lives or what?”
“Barnes’s total stats are over 20. Samaritan’s at like 7, right?”
“Idiot, stats matter to Samaritans? They crush venomous snakes barehanded as kids.”
“Someone’s hauling a corpse anyway.”
Amid the rowdy cheers and laughter, Barnes’s gray eyes fixed on me steadily.
Unlike his clownish yelling moments ago, his gaze was feral, sharp and untamed.
“Son of barbarians, I’ll let you choose the duel’s terms. Bare hands or weapons. I won’t dodge!!”
Barnes bellowed arrogantly. Hippolyte, standing before me, snorted softly.
“Trying to boost his fame by stealing the spotlight. Wasting brains on tricks—that’s why he’s stuck. But…”
Hippolyte paused, closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, then snapped them open with a grin.
“But this’ll be fun. Approved!”
Fuck.
I hadn’t even answered, and the duel was on. What random PK bullshit was this?
Uncouth barbarian fucks. Who’s the real barbarian? I felt so wronged.
“H-Hassan…”
Then someone grabbed my collar from behind with a worried voice. Turning, I saw Luna looking up anxiously.
She seemed jittery about me facing that grizzled veteran adventurer.
“D-Don’t kill him, Hassan…”
Wait, not worried about me, but the opponent? She didn’t think I’d lose?
The absurdity hit me, and I just laughed.
A baseless chuckle bubbling from my gut.
“L-Look! Duel’s set, and he’s laughing!”
“Fuck, I’m too scared to watch. Just tell me the result!”
* * *
“Made a special octagon arena. Let’s see what the party leader’s got this time.”
The dwarf with the massive double-headed axe—Didier, was it?—had fetched wood and rope from somewhere to build an octagonal ring.
Stakes driven in, ropes strung up: an impromptu MMA cage.
The crowd ringed it, eyes wide with half excitement, half tension, scanning my face and Barnes’s inside.
“Barnes! Show continental spirit! Don’t lose to that barbarian fuck!”
Cheers chanting names hyped the mood, faces flushed. Even I felt a strange thrill swelling in my chest.
Fear of battle, tension, anxiety, the weight of trading lives—it prickled my hands and feet.
Roughly two years ago, until the arena where I’d been a gladiator slave burned down in some incident, I’d felt this every day.
Even my opponents’ bloodlust, itching to pound me.
“Bare hands, eh? Good. Time to show off the Caldia Wildcat’s skills.”
Whoosh, whoosh.
Barnes, standing far off, thrust his left and right fists into the air. His punches cut the wind loudly. Stretching?
I just crouched on the arena floor, rubbing dirt and sand into my hands. Wasting energy before the fight was for fools.
As we prepped for the duel.
Hippolyte appeared from somewhere, red robe over her armor, stepping between us.
“I, Hippolyte, stand here as proxy for the war god Mars. Both of you, swear to fight worthy of Mars’s name.”
“I, Barnes son of Billemon, swear to an honorable fight.”
Barnes son of Billemon? Was this some ritual swearing by your father’s name? I’d been in plenty of fights, but this was new.
Swearing on parents like it was life-or-death? Even for a fuckup like me, that felt off.
“I, Hassan of Samaria, swear it too.”
“Very well, the duel is on!”
Hippolyte exited the arena. Now, just me and that Barnes fuck in this tight octagon.
How the hell to beat that sturdy bastard? Trip him? Or try some amateur jiu-jitsu for ground game?
As I pondered.
Barnes, fists up like a boxer, posture set, muttered slyly from behind his brick-like knuckles.
“Hmph, won’t even name your parents? Just like the rumors—Jupiter’s spawn, huh?”
“What?”
“Means no parents, kid. Yours are dead or enslaved. Black land’s specialty is quality slaves, after all.”
“What the fuck, you piece of shit?”
Slandering my parents out of nowhere? I could take shit about myself, but pad rips? No fucking way.
I blanked every tactic in my head, blood rushing to my brain, and charged him roaring.
“Hah, falling for cheap bait! Just like the rumors—a wild boar!”
Barnes whipped a sharp fist at me. His hard knuckles slammed my chest and gut, nearly stopping my breath.
“What the fuck did you say about my parents?”
But the pain couldn’t quell my rage.
Whoosh.
I wrapped his waist and slammed him down like tackling to the ground.
“Street brawl? Bring it, fucker! I’ve ruled gutter fights since boyhood!”
As he thrashed with limbs trying tricks, I pinned him with my weight and hammered my fist down.
Crack—!
“Guh!”
My punch nailed his jaw. He went limp like a deflating balloon. The pinpoint hit must’ve rattled his skull.
But my anger didn’t fade. Straddling him, I pummeled his face mercilessly.
Crack, thud, smack, smack!
“Guh, kuh, urk, keh, eek…”
My knuckles split and bruised pounding his tough face, but I couldn’t stop.
“…”
Only when he went slack, vomiting bubbly blood from nose and mouth, did I halt. Then text floated before my eyes.
Ding—.
『Cured Barnes Rodelheim's fetish: Attention-seeking.』
『Karma Value +10』
『Current Karma Value: +42』
What? Got cured from a beating? Attention fetish, huh.
Anyway, no clue how many hits. I’d lost count.
Barnes under me wasn’t moving a twitch.
...
Dead?
I never meant to kill.
I slid my fingers to his neck and jaw to check pulse.
“H-He’s peeling the face skin!”
“Shit, rumors were true!”
“That’s too brutal! S-Someone stop him!”
The crowd’s weird yells made me yank my hand back in shock.
“Cough.”
Just then, Barnes under me hacked bloody foam and groaned—alive.
“S-Spare me…”
“No chance, fucker!”