Chapter 80
Chapter 80
Saint, You’re So Vulgar! – Chapter 80
Shing!
He angled the short sword obliquely and let it slide off the blade.
As the motion twisted along the curved surface of the sword, Gester's stance faltered for a moment.
Asher spun his body around.
He knew that was the timing for the hidden blade in Gester's other hand to fly out.
Tszang!
Hwaran's assassin's dagger crumbled.
Gester's eyes widened as if they might tear, then he clenched his teeth with an "Ahng" and switched his stance.
Not "Ack," but "Ahng."
"You insolent bitch! That's how you wanna play it?!"
Ah, please.
He pleaded with his eyes, but it fell on deaf ears.
Asher realized that eye-contact communication was actually incredibly difficult, and that Versia being able to do it made her truly special.
"Hiyah!!!"
Thud!
Gester unleashed a front kick, and Asher was pushed back by the force.
Her leg shot out through the open side of her skirt.
Her thigh muscles bulged prominently.
"Ooooh!!!"
"Mila! Mila!"
A group of mercenaries cheered excitedly.
Asher got goosebumps.
"I, the lonely rose Mila! I won't be broken by something like thiiiis!!!"
"Waaaaah!!!"
He really felt like throwing up.
Now it was beyond friendship; a rising disgust brought thoughts like that to mind.
'Disqualify Gester. Make sure he never holds a sword again.'
It was a vicious thought, but at the same time, the only mercy Asher could offer.
Mila's euthanasia, Gester's salvation.
For the greater good, Asher crossed blades.
"...Enough with the ugly antics."
"Aaaah!!! Tia of incest! A chilling line at her love rival aiming for her brother!!!"
"...I'm going to kill you all."
Whoosh!
Asher's figure blurred.
Immediately after, his sword reflected the sunlight, temporarily blinding Gester.
A momentary approach using footwork, a blade trajectory aimed at vital points.
Gester's reaction was one step too slow.
The outcome was decided there.
Tang!
Asher struck Gester's nape with the flat of his blade.
At the same time, he perfectly blocked the final desperate strike Gester threw out.
Thud!
Gester collapsed to the ground.
He yelled "Kugh!" dramatically and squeezed his eyes shut.
The result was declared.
"The wiiiinner!!! Tia of incest, protecting her lifelong brother once more!!! The pillar husband's match is set!!!"
"Waaaaah!!!"
"...I admit it. You're the woman who suits that man."
How long did they plan to keep this up?
Gester staggered to his feet and, as if aiming for a heartwarming finish, extended his hand with a high-pitched voice.
And winked.
"Let's get along as comrades from now on?"
Asher was troubled.
He just wanted to go back and rest now that it was over.
He didn't take the outstretched hand.
He scowled and stormed off.
Back in the waiting room.
"Kuh-heh, kuh-heh-heh-heh!!! Guh-heok! Kuh-hah-hah!"
Halia was clutching her stomach laughing.
Diego had his head down, hand over his mouth.
Versia clapped politely.
"Good work, Saintess. So, should I go get myself all prettied up now?"
"Asher! Versia's making a face!"
"Ah, seems like you were uncomfortable that I hadn't dolled up beforehand."
"Kuh-hah-hah-hah!"
Halia finally rolled on the floor laughing.
Asher felt so upset.
He'd gone out there and fought seriously, only to end up the clown. These people couldn't offer any support from above, just laughing their asses offwasn't that too much?
His expression soured, and his skin flushed red as if it might burst.
He ground his teeth so hard his cheeks puffed out.
"I hate you all! I really hate you!!!"
Asher shrieked and stormed out of the room.
But he had nowhere to go.
He squatted in front of the door, huffing, when Gester appeared late, shaking off the act and grinning openly as he approached.
"You had reason to be confident. Your win, miss. I learned something."
Gester offered a handshake again.
But Asher couldn't smile in front of the culprit of all this.
Asher whipped his head away.
"...I don't know."
He wasn't in the mood to talk.
* * *
In the end, comforting Asher fell to Versia.
They safely finished the round of 32, then forfeited the round of 16 right there.
Versia drew boos from the crowd, but surprisingly, it fit the "pillar husband" character so well that it didn't cause much backlash.
Isn't that how arenas work?
Who wins matters to gamblers, but the content of the match and its flow are far more important.
A skilled but dirty fighter.
With that image solidified, using it cleverly got him out of the tournament successfully.
After that, the round of 16.
Asher defeated a whip-wielding executive from the Desert Wolf Mercenaries and advanced to the quarterfinals.
Diego also advanced to the quarterfinals via walkover.
And today marked the end of the quarterfinals, advancing in a blaze of glory.
How was Asher, the hero of victory and master of comebacks, faring?
If someone asked, the answer would be a bit pitiful.
"Will you accept my apology?"
"Y-Yes! N-Nek!!!"
Asher was enduring "apology" torture disguised as remorse.
"N-Now stop! That's enough...!"
"Really?"
"Really enough! Really!"
Tap. Versia released her hold.
Asher dropped to his knees on the floor.
He panted heavily.
He felt ten years older.
'What the hell just happened?'
Recalling it brought it right back. It was recent, after all.
'The Saintess suddenly came up from behind...'
And hugged him.
She apologized for teasing him.
Truth be told, he'd gone days without speaking because of that incident.
Asher knew his sulky, emotional reaction was childish, so he'd blushed and planned to accept her apology.
But at that moment, Versia reached around and tickled his stomach.
Normally he'd shrug it off, but she'd apparently learned how to pin him down, striking from a tricky angle that fully restrained him.
After that, it was total humiliation.
Fine, stomach tickling was just enduring itchiness and shame.
But blocking her hands slyly sliding up or down drained him completely.
The spots she'd touched still tingled.
His body was burning up.
Asher clamped his lips shut.
'C-Calm down, Asher. If your thing reacts again...!'
It wasn't just the embarrassment; it'd make him want to die.
He could already hear Versia asking, "Excited? Got hard?"
The corners of Asher's eyes twitched up.
"...That wasn't an apology."
"You said it was fine. Changing your mind right after is kinda lame."
"......"
He glared, but nothing changed.
Was that supreme satisfaction in her smile an illusion?
No, definitely not.
He had proofher grip on his wrist.
Asher shuddered and staggered to his feet.
What was the point of saying more?
With a sigh, Asher shifted to something more productive.
"...Anyway, quarterfinals now."
"You said you'd aim for the championship."
"Yes, we need to stand out."
"The mood's good. Outside, they're buzzing that Blue Sword sent two to the quarters."
"We need to make it louder. The more eyes on us, the harder it is for them to act rashly."
Asher brushed off his clothes and stood, smoothing his messy hair as he continued.
"We have to make the current Lion Corps feel the crisis. The royals and Lion Corps are bound by contract. Seeing the current Corps uneasy will make us look like reliable next partners."
Of course, assuming it all went smoothly.
"...Can't let our guard down. Real powerhouses start now."
Diego wasn't the worry.
Asher was concerned about himself.
Versia's body gave overwhelming advantage in ordinary fights, but against warriors using secret arts, her combat power would struggle.
In this environment where she couldn't use divine power or prayers, it was a big weakness.
'The semifinals...'
A secret art user would appear.
One of the current Lion Corps' core executives.
Asher's face hardened.
He knew who the man was.
A face pushed to the back of memory resurfaced.
-Don't act cool, you reverse grip bastard!!!
Revenge. Calling it that would be too personal.
Asher steadied his mind.
"I'll go train a bit."
"Sure, be careful."
To cover the secret arts gap, he needed to sharpen his senses further.
Out of the room to the training grounds.
There, deep in practice, he devised ways to beat the man he'd face in the semis.
That's when it happened.
"Ah, found you. Semifinal opponent!"
Asher froze in place.
His brows furrowed.
He looked up toward the source of the giggling laughter.
'What a worthless scum.'
Beyond the fence, the semifinal opponent he'd just recalledone of Asher's enemiesstood there with his underlings, staring at Asher.