Chapter 94: The Arena of Cosmos (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 94: The Arena of Cosmos (5)
I can win.
The conclusion was immediate.
‘As long as I can use both magic and spirit energy, that is.’
Even though she had retired and grown dull, I had recently defeated Alisa, a former member of the Viment Special Task Force. While Dante was exceptionally talented, I was confident I could suppress him.
However, if we were to duel with swordsmanship alone…
‘I’m not so sure. His sword energy, instantaneous speed, explosive power, and accuracy—all of it was nothing short of astonishing.’
The second match had begun, but it was lost on me. Instead, the fleeting moment when Dante struck Mantis’s neck kept replaying in my head.
Dante Hairan was clearly a superior swordsman. Given the three-year age gap between us, that was only natural.
Therefore, I had to analyze him.
My only chance was to find a path to victory before we ever crossed blades in the arena.
‘But I don’t want to use tricks or traps like the other participants. This is only meaningful if I face him head-on and break him.’
While I was lost in these thoughts, across the way in the VIP spectator seats, Veradin could not contain his racing heart.
‘I’m so glad I came! To think Jin participated, too! And I get to see Jin and Dante cross blades so soon… What a windfall.’
Jin and Dante.
Veradin had never imagined he would encounter the two people he considered his only rivals in the world in a place like this.
Unfortunately for him, Jin wasn't paying him any attention.
* * *
I watched the rest of the matches for Groups 1 and 2.
As expected, there were no other notable figures after Dante. The Arena was more of a cruel spectacle than a martial arts tournament.
Participants at the 3-star level or below were busy playing tricks. The naive ones fell for them and became gory entertainment for the nobles, while the veterans slowly tortured their opponents to draw out the cheers.
That was the Arena of Cosmos.
‘From tomorrow, they’ll hold matches for three or four groups a day. My match won't be for another three days. Until then…’
I had to survive the nights.
In some ways, the nights in the Arena were far more dangerous than the actual matches.
Currently, 147 participants remained in the lodgings. Out of the original 182, 35 were already dead.
Among them, only about ten had died during their matches. The other twenty-five had perished in fights that broke out within the lodgings.
Poisoning, assassination, and ambushes were common, to say nothing of the frequent brawls.
It meant that leaning against a wall and thinking you could rest in your room was a death sentence.
Consequently, I wouldn't be able to sleep for the next three days. I might manage a light doze in the spectator seats, but deep sleep was out of the question.
‘I underwent sleeplessness training during my cadet days… but this is the first time I’ve had to hold out for three days straight.’
I briefly considered gathering a few subordinates to form a crew and take turns resting.
But among the lunatics who participated in this tournament, who could possibly be trusted? Trusted enough to guard your back while you closed your eyes, to eat with, or to protect you until your turn in the arena came?
No one. Seventy percent of the participants were pirates who made a living from looting and robbery, and another twenty percent were cunning mercenaries or thugs.
The remaining ten percent were slightly better. They were ordinary martial artists who, ignorant of the world’s harshness, had come to the Arena for experience. In other words, they were average people who lacked guile.
Most of them were already dead. They were too naive to survive in this den of demons. And even if any were still alive, I wouldn't have formed a group with them.
‘Whatever, I’ll just endure it. Am I the only one who’s tired? The bastards trying to kill me will be just as exhausted when they finally make their move.’
Sring.
Sitting cross-legged, I unsheathed Bradamante and laid it on the floor, ready to swing it the moment someone attacked.
Time passed with excruciating slowness.
The thought of 147 enemies lurking in the darkness beyond the iron bars had my nerves stretched taut, making minutes feel like hours.
And as that slow time trickled by, until dawn finally broke and light filled the room…
I wasn't attacked even once.
‘Did it work? The message I sent by cutting off the fingers and arms of those idiots who attacked me yesterday? I didn’t expect not a single person to come to my room.’
Of course, that didn't mean I could sleep tonight. The participants trying to kill me were probably just waiting for me to wear down.
It seemed quite a few fights had broken out during the night. The number of participants had dropped from 147 to 140, and many of the survivors were severely injured.
After a simple meal of dried rations and water I had brought with me, the guide announced the start of the matches. From the second day onward, they were scheduled from morning until night.
Rumble…
Participants walked down the hallway with hollow faces. Once again, I headed toward the spectator seats at the end of the procession.
The day unfolded just like the one before: watching subpar, cruel displays and returning to my room when the matches ended.
Since killing was prohibited in the spectator seats, I managed to doze off a few times. All the participants slept that way, but it did little to relieve the fatigue.
Night fell once again.
In the two days since joining the Arena, I hadn't done much of anything besides claiming my room and punishing a few fools at the very beginning.
Nevertheless, the extreme fatigue made my entire body feel like it was crumbling.
It was, of course, due to the lack of sleep.
If it had just been a matter of staying awake, it wouldn't have been this hard. But maintaining a combat-ready state for two straight days, with every sense on high alert, was more grueling than I could have imagined.
‘If I can just hold out through today and tomorrow… it’ll be over. They said we’d get proper rest once the winner’s bracket starts, so I just have to grit my teeth until then.’
At this rate, I felt I’d be lucky to exert twenty percent of my usual strength by the time Group 13’s match arrived.
But it didn't matter. Unless my first opponent was Dante, twenty percent was more than enough to crush anyone else, including the so-called veterans of this Arena.
I unsheathed Bradamante just as I had the night before.
Perhaps because the fatigue was compounding, time was once again crawling by at a maddening pace. Waves of drowsiness washed over me, a product of the accumulated exhaustion.
To make matters worse, the nights in the Arena were cruelly silent. I could occasionally hear the distant scream of someone dying, but that was all.
Once again, no one ambushed me.
That only made it more agonizing. My suspicion that some bastards were waiting for me to tire out had hardened into certainty, and the fact that I didn't know who they were was infuriating.
As four in the morning approached…
A sudden thought flashed through my mind.
‘Should I just go out and kill them all first?’
A chill ran down my spine.
Most of the participants were villains, but the fact that I had just considered slaughtering over a hundred people without any real grudge was startling.
‘Ha, I feel like I’m going crazy. Sir Casimir was right; this is a dangerous tournament.’
Whew.
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and regained my composure. As a martial artist, I would likely kill many people throughout my life, but I had no desire to become a mindless murderer.
About an hour later.
Step, step…
I heard a single set of footsteps approaching from the outer hallway. Those weren't the steps of someone just passing by. They belonged to someone moving in for a kill.
‘Is it finally starting?’
They could be targeting someone else, but I gripped Bradamante silently.
The footsteps drew closer and closer.
They stopped right next to my room—so close that one more step would have brought them to my door.
‘So they are targeting me. Are they bold or just stupid? Coming right out in the open like this. Or are they half-insane from two days without sleep?’
I stood up, lowered my stance, and tightened my grip. I planned to cut them down in a single strike the moment they appeared before the iron bars.
The thick scent of blood wafted from the person standing outside.
Then, an unexpected voice cut through the silence.
"Wait… can we talk for a moment?"
A husky voice.
It was Dante.
‘What? Why is Dante looking for me?’
A thousand thoughts raced through my mind.
Does he know who I am? If so, did Veradin tell him? Did he come to settle things now instead of waiting? Or is this just a coincidence?
My heart pounded.
If Dante was well-rested, unlike me, I couldn't win. This wasn't a place where I could claim to be tired and ask to fight another day.
"Talk?" I asked, feigning nonchalance to hide my shock.
"Yes."
After a moment of deliberation, I opened the iron bars.
"Come in."
"Thank you…"
Stagger!
‘Huh?’
The moment he stepped inside, Dante’s legs seemed to give out, and he dropped to one knee. As I stared with wide eyes, he spoke first.
"This is incredibly rude for a first meeting, but… please let me sleep. In exchange, I will stand guard tomorrow so you can sleep."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"Exactly what I said. I can't hold out any longer. If I don't sleep for even an hour… I think I'll go mad."
So, Dante had reached his limit. Just like me, he had spent two nights wide-eyed, waiting for assassins.
"But why me? What makes you trust me?"
"I've been watching you since yesterday. Unlike the other participants, you seemed like a true martial artist. The only one in this Arena. That's why you're trustworth— Zzzzz."
Snore, snore…
Watching Dante fall fast asleep right there, unable to even finish his sentence, I felt utterly bewildered.
‘What is with this guy? In his own way, he’s even more shocking than Veradin.’
To put it bluntly, I could slit Dante's throat right now without any trouble. Yet here he was, dead to the world and even snoring.
‘Does the Hairan family not do sleeplessness training? Or did an especially large number of participants attack him?’
But before that bewildered feeling could fade…
Rustle, scuffle.
This time, I heard footsteps that were clearly trying to be stealthy.
They were the footsteps of the other participants who had been waiting for Dante to "wear down." In that moment, I realized something.
‘The thick scent of blood coming from Dante… This guy has been hounded by other participants all night. That’s why he reeks of it. Unlike me, who hasn’t had a single visitor. In any case…’
It wouldn't be a bad thing to have the next patriarch of the Hairan family owe me a favor.
I coated Bradamante in Aura and prepared to face the assassins in Dante's stead.