The Oath of Victory
This was a place thronged with beings far greater and more terrible than herself.
There were even Souls she had never known existed.
She believed he had taken her bait — and yet something about it sat wrong. He had accepted far too readily.
Even if he has a hidden card, he cannot defeat me here.
Of course, whatever evolution he managed in the time allotted would have its limits. The Forgotten God's Soul, by contrast, had been with her from the moment she first fell into this place. No amount of struggle would change that.
Time was the element that poured rank into a Soul and tempered it further. He simply did not have it.
He will not even defeat the Primitive Dragon.
He would never reach the fusion of all thirteen. The completed Supreme Soul was a being nothing dared compare itself to — truly invincible. Not that he would ever live to see that finished form.
GROAAAAAH!
And so the duel began.
From the first exchange, the Primitive Dragon drove Dianax back. In the previous match she had seen Dianax endure even elemental disadvantage through sheer toughness —
But the Primitive Dragon's Piercing is not something mere hardness can withstand.
The Primitive Dragon possessed high-grade physical penetration. More than that, though it could neither unleash breath attacks nor cast magic like other dragons, it carried the most primal savagery of all.
GROOOOOOOOH—!
Primal Curse — Dragon's Roar
All Resistances reduced by −50%
HP reduced by 20
Mental Power heavily drained
This was no ordinary Dragon Fear. It was a curse that forced its victim to confront terror in its most primitive form — a fear that transcended instinct itself. From the opening move, the opponent was completely suppressed.
And yet—
Dianax's Curse Reflection — 40%!
Duration of curses applied to the Primitive Dragon increased by 30%
Dragon's Roar rebounded onto the Primitive Dragon at forty percent strength.
Dianax has a Curse Reflection ability?
No. Dianax possessed no such power.
…It is his ability. To think a child beloved by a goddess would hold a power related to curses.
It was nothing like the abilities one simply acquired by being holy. Rather, it was a power born only from thoroughly mastering the systems of curses. Even so, it was rare. Which meant the man knew curses — and had cultivated them to a considerable degree.
I do not know which school of curses he has learned…
Not that it mattered. Unexpected as it was, if the opponent had studied curses, the matter became simpler. A curse could only lose to a stronger curse.
And the Forgotten God was a deity who had mastered every curse of calamity and misfortune.
◈ Cursed Soul(Blessing Removal)
◈ Enfeeblement(Sensory Degradation)
◈ Sluggish(Speed Reduction)
◈ Life Extraction(Continuous Bleed Damage)
◈ Natural Regeneration Reduction(−10,000%)
An unending procession of curses. The Natural Regeneration Reduction, in particular, would make the bleed damage hit hard.
No matter how high the defense, continuous bleeding cannot be endured.
Now she need only watch the fight at her leisure. A curse that slashed natural regeneration by a full ten thousand percent was something only she could cast. And even if one received a blessing from the God of Regeneration, no one in existence could withstand a reduction of that magnitude.
…Or so there should have been no one.
The bleed is… not landing?
Yet time passed, and Dianax remained unharmed. It was the phenomenon that appeared only when regenerative power outstripped bleeding — an impossibility. It would mean the regeneration rate had soared past ten thousand percent. And that, too, was an ability Dianax did not possess.
The longer the fight dragged on, the more damage the Primitive Dragon absorbed from the reflected curses, far outpacing what Dianax suffered.
Grr… grrrrr!
It looked exhausted. Of course it did.
Curse Reflection…!
…Because the man possessed that once-in-an-era ability. He had not cast a reflection-type curse — he had internalized the power into his very body. And a Reflection ability that existed as an inherent passive rather than a cast curse was unfamiliar even to her.
Moreover, the more curses she used, the more they stacked — and the Primitive Dragon's health drained faster than Dianax's. An abnormal regenerative power that defied all reason, combined with that damnable ability that bounced curses back and even extended their duration.
So that is why he was so confident.
The Forgotten God had no choice but to acknowledge it. She finally understood why the man had accepted her duel with such bold assurance.
…I will smash him to pieces.
Mad Dragon
Consumes all remaining HP to massively empower the user
She had not wanted to use it — but a duel needed only one round. She had no desire to face him again. If she meant to end it here, this was the only way.
GROOOOOOOOOOH!
Light poured from every inch of the Primitive Dragon's body. A self-sacrificial curse that burned everything to finish the opponent in a single blow. Dianax was already under the effects of her curses — it would not escape this attack unscathed.
Shiiik!
The Primitive Dragon rose into the sky. Then—
SHUUUUUUUUUNG—!
KRAAAAAAAAAAANG!
It set its entire body ablaze and slammed into Dianax. A single-point detonation. The entire Colosseum shuddered at once. A final move from which nothing could possibly survive.
But that was fine.
There is no such thing as a draw. Both will be judged to have lost.
He would have no next time. That was enough.
And then—
—…?
The result of the duel appeared, and the Forgotten God could only stare in shock. Had he truly survived even the Primitive Dragon's self-destruction?
But that was impossible. No such method existed.
Then the dust cleared, and she beheld what stood revealed. The Primitive Dragon had already become a spectral form and merged with another Soul — yet something had clearly survived atop the wreckage.
It was not Dianax.
What emerged as the dust settled was…
—…Angel… Behemoth?
…She could not comprehend it. Had it evolved in that brief span of time?
Infinite Evolution.
Gulp.
Hudson clenched a fist slick with sweat.
Pyorong! Pyororong!
He stared up at the Colosseum arena, where his Pooring was locked in combat. A slime-type beast evolved through Monster Souls. It looked unremarkable at a glance, but the slime's innate ability to nullify attacks had carried it all the way to Rank 20.
The problem was its current opponent.
Of all things… a Harpy.
It had drawn an aerial beast. Pooring was slow. It had neither hands nor feet. Being completely exposed to a Harpy's assault was only natural. What was he supposed to do? Its only abilities were defense and digestion.
"Pwahaha! What do you think you're going to accomplish with a slime? Just forfeit already."
The summoner controlling the Harpy — a Werewolf — spoke with open contempt. A monster standing on two legs, draped in wolf hide, he mocked Pooring and Hudson without the slightest restraint.
But forfeiting was not an option.
I have to lighten his burden, even a little.
The Third Floor Trial was a stage that tested the ability to raise and evolve Monster Souls. Aside from Albino, the Knights of the Golden Rule were at a severe disadvantage. Of course, they had never not been at a disadvantage — and every time, Randolph, Park Hyunmyung, had solved it.
I swore I'd be different every time. I swore I'd grow stronger this time. And yet nothing has changed.
Hudson ground his teeth.
…How long did he intend to lean on that man's help alone? How long would he hide behind him, hoping only for his aid?
Hyunmyung is not weak. He is strong enough to fell the Giant of Evil's Demise by himself.
It was shameful. He wanted to dig a hole and bury himself. He had been deluded — fantasizing that Park Hyunmyung, stripped of Randolph's form, would somehow be frail. But this was a man who had toppled the Giant of Evil's Demise alone. Such a man could never be weak.
And yet—
Hyunmyung has proven himself once more. But what about me?
…He was pathetic. He had sworn to grow stronger countless times, only to hit a wall and give up. But a limit was nothing more than a line one drew for oneself. Had he not learned that lesson over and over, watching Randolph and Park Hyunmyung?
Pyorong!
Pooring cried out. Against the Harpy's almost playful attacks, it was utterly helpless — kicked by talons, clawed out of the air, slammed to the ground again and again. Even caked in dust, Pooring fought the Harpy with everything it had.
Even Pooring refuses to give up.
Stake everything. Fight with all your might. Easy words. But Hudson asked himself whether he had ever truly done so.
…Aside from the moment he had saved Serengeti, he could say with certainty that he had not.
"This has stopped being entertaining. For someone who joined the Knights of the Golden Rule, you're truly nothing special."
The Werewolf smacked his lips. He had expected at least something different from a member of that order — only to find this sorry spectacle.
He looked at Hudson again.
"The Druid of the Golden Rule must be blind, taking a washout like you as a knight."
"…God of Merchants."
Crack.
Hudson ground his teeth. Being belittled and insulted himself was fine. He could endure finger-pointing and kicks. But there were exactly two things Hudson could not tolerate.
One was insulting Serengeti.
The other—
I will not stand for anyone defiling Hyunmyung's name.
…Insulting the lord he served.
And there was exactly one method by which a merchant could reverse a situation like this.
"I shall pay every scrap of Value I possess, and swear."
Staking Value. Whether gold, equipment, or anything else — a merchant could gain power through payment. And now, Hudson was staking everything. A method of payment forbidden even among merchants.
"An Oath of Victory!"
Swaaaaah!
In that instant, a set of scales appeared before Hudson's eyes. He poured everything he owned onto the balance — every currency, every weapon, every tool, even the clothes on his back.
It was not enough. The scales still did not move.
He would have staked his life if he could, but the Scale of Value measured only the worth of goods. So he had to stake what was most precious of all.
The casino. Every contract tied to every right I hold. I will stake them all.
He did not need to physically possess them to place them on the scale. He was offering collateral to the God of Merchants in exchange for the Oath of Victory.
Shuuung!
Contracts materialized in midair and settled onto the balance.
"…Have you gone mad because you have no chance of winning?"
The Werewolf stared at Hudson in alarm. Naturally so. Hudson stood bare. He had truly staked everything.
But the scales still did not move. The God of Merchants did not judge this sufficient Value to reverse the situation.
Only one thing remained.
…The bone necklace.
Hudson touched his throat. A small, finely worked necklace of bone. It held no power whatsoever — it was simply the first gift Serengeti had ever given him. To Hudson, it was a treasure nothing in the world could replace.
It was the most valuable thing he owned… and for that very reason, he hesitated. Once it was placed on the scale, it was gone. He would never get it back. And whether the scale would even recognize it as something of worth — if it did not move… everything he had staked would be for nothing.
No take-backs!