Chapter 101
Chapter 101
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 101
Chapter Title: Judgment of Atala (4)
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Kadim slumped onto a stone bench in the waiting area.
The other gladiators flinched in surprise and hurriedly scattered. It wasn't just his blood-soaked appearance; they'd all watched his previous matches from beyond the iron bars. Sharing space with a monster who'd single-handedly butchered twenty-four men took more than average courage.
On the other hand, one person came rushing over as if he'd been waiting.
"G-Great work, milord...! To defeat that many gladiators all by yourself—truly amazing! F-First, please, uh, wipe off that blood!"
Duncan approached and handed him a rag. Kadim took it reflexively, then furrowed his brow slightly.
"How'd you get in here?"
"P-Pardon?"
"Aren't they supposed to keep gladiators from outsiders?"
"Uh... they didn't stop me since I snuck in? They didn't even seem to notice I was there."
Kadim let out a hollow chuckle. His knack for hiding his presence was still top-notch. He wiped the blood and sweat from his face with the rag, then nodded toward the other item in Duncan's hand.
"Wh-What this is? It's the grape wine I bought in Gallentana! I was worried about the heat, but since it's young wine, it ripened just right without any rest. Your throat must be parched from all the sweating—have a sip first!"
Blood and wine—a fantastic pairing. He accepted the cup without hesitation.
But as he gazed absently at the blood-red liquid sloshing inside...
A sharp impulse wriggled through his mind.
Kadim grimaced and ground his teeth. Damn it... It had been a while since he last drank demon blood. Not a drop since slaying that massive crow monster.
"M-Milord... what's wrong? Is there something off with the wine...?"
No need to worry him. Kadim shook his head and downed the cup.
Duncan was right. It wasn't crisp or refreshing, but the wine had ripened just enough to offer a balanced, fragrant flavor. He drained it in one gulp and exhaled, a rich grape aroma rising up. It couldn't quench his thirst for blood, though...
Kadim wiped his mouth and shot Duncan a sidelong glance.
"So, what do you want to say?"
"P-Pardon? Oh, uh, well..."
He wouldn't have come rushing over like this for nothing. Caught out, Duncan hemmed and hawed before speaking up.
"...Milord, d-did I, perhaps, overstep last time...?"
"Overstep how?"
"When you were talking with the Arena King—Yubik the Grand Master—I barged in and... proposed that gold if you became champion..."
Yubik had mistaken it for pocket change, but it was actually enough to bankrupt him. Duncan must have rushed over to butter him up, worried about pulling that stunt without permission.
Kadim snorted in amusement.
"Doesn't matter. If anything, it worked out well. Didn't you promise me a lifetime's fortune before? That much gold would more than cover it."
Duncan's worries melted away, replaced by a beaming smile. But his face fell again at the next words.
"If you can carry it off, that is."
"..."
Duncan lapsed into agonized thought over hauling a mountain of gold. Still, he didn't doubt for a second that Kadim would become champion.
Kadim watched him silently for a moment, then suddenly grew stern.
"Besides... I was planning to punish that tycoon one way or another."
"...Pardon? Why?"
"He fattened his belly through this damned den of corruption, turning 'struggle' into mere spectacle. Forcing him to vomit up every drop of ill-gotten blood would be fitting judgment. And if I execute the fake Great Warrior too and reclaim the Judgment of Atala... then only one more remains to be dealt with in this city."
"...Wh-Who would that be, milord?"
"..."
Duncan swallowed nervously. Kadim's gaze drifted to a dark corner in the distance. He never named the person. Duncan fidgeted awkwardly before taking the hint and leaving.
Now alone after even sending the merchant away.
He rose slowly and headed deeper in. Crossing the waiting area's boundary, he entered the pitch-black sealed zone untouched by light. At its center lay the stone slab inscribed with ancient script that he'd found before.
Kadim stomped on it, glaring down with heavy eyes.
"Can you hear me, Witch of the Wilderness?"
No answer came.
"Atala's Great Warrior has returned."
His voice rang out solemnly regardless.
"You will pay dearly for abandoning your role as herald and driving out the Great Warrior."
*
Agon's Furious Horn, Goltaran, scowled deeply.
"What in the world is wrong with you, Witch?"
"..."
"If something's the matter, speak up. You've been like this for days now—does it make sense that nothing's wrong? Are you perhaps trying to deceive Atala's chosen Great Warrior?"
"...N-No, really, it's nothing. No need to worry... Just focus on recovering with the elixir, Great Warrior..."
It had been nearly twenty years since they met. Goltaran knew well that this witch was far tougher and more vigorous than her age suggested.
But ever since that strange incident a while back, she'd changed completely. For days now, she'd been panting raggedly and trembling uncontrollably, as if suddenly burdened with centuries of forgotten years all at once.
He couldn't ignore the signs any longer. He already depended on her greatly, both mentally and practically. Yet she just kept repeating that it was nothing, refusing to explain properly.
"Is something wrong with your body? Or this ruin? Or perhaps something unfortunate outside?"
"..."
"Damn it! Speak! Say something! How else can I focus on recovering?!"
Bam!
Goltaran could hold back no longer and slammed his fist down. The glowing blossoms and thickets swayed, waves rippling across the half-diminished golden pool.
But as the vibrations faded, the witch suddenly straightened, staring at the ceiling.
Fresh dread clouded her murky eyes.
"Oh no... dear gods."
"...What is it?"
"Y-Your kin are being dragged away... The slaves you once promised to free... chained in a line, lashed mercilessly as they're herded north of the city..."
Goltaran's brow twisted ferociously.
He'd spent half his life fighting in the arena solely to eradicate the disdain for Atalains and free his captured kin. Whatever the reason, he couldn't sit idle if this was happening.
Goltaran climbed from the pool, shook off the water, and donned his clothes. The witch stammered in panic.
"N-No, Great Warrior... You're leaving right now?"
"Yes."
"N-Now's not the time—wait for later! Your body isn't fully recovered, you don't know who or what awaits outside, and besides..."
"So I should just lie here splashing in this puddle, watching my kin get sold off?"
"..."
"...I'll hear why you've been trembling like a rat these past days when I return."
He pulled his horned helm low, gripped his battle axe with its gleaming black edge, and strode toward the ruin's exit.
The Witch of the Wilderness never rose from her spot. Clinging flesh bound her frail form. She chewed bitterly on the poisonous anxiety rising within, praying fervently.
Please... let the Great Warrior I created never clash with the 'returned Great Warrior'...
*
North of Agon's outskirts, the sun blazed down, scorching the cracked wasteland as if to peel away its skin.
But that was nothing. Compared to those savage whips truly flaying skin and splattering blood...
"You little shit, move it! Faster!"
Crack! Crack!
The chained child felt it.
Chills racing up his spine, ears burning hot. Shoulders quaking, legs giving out in utter exhaustion. Agony as if his back were being skinned whole.
"Ah... aaah... aaaah... aaaaaaah!! Aaaaaaah!! M-Mommy!! Moooooommyyy!!"
"Oh? You brat! You brat! Where's your mommy around here? Am I your mommy? Huh? Am I?!"
"Aaaaaah!! Aaaaaah!!"
Crack, crack, crack!
Even as the child collapsed in a bloody mess, the overseer whipped mercilessly. The other chained Atalain slaves froze in horror at the inhuman brutality.
Finally, one elderly slave stepped forward, unable to watch.
"St-Stop it! What did that child do to deserve this? And if the Great Warrior hears of this—?"
Atala's Great Warrior, Agon's Furious Horn.
His name was a sturdy shield protecting these powerless slaves with nowhere to turn. No overseer, however cruel, could hear it without tensing.
But this one didn't flinch—instead, he glared furiously.
"What? You... threatening me just now?"
"N-No, not that, but..."
"Kuhahaha... Pathetic, fuck. That Agon's Furious Horn ruined all you savages' discipline... So, where's your mighty Great Warrior now, huh? Been out of the city forever, right? And you know he hasn't shown his face in Agon for over a week?"
"..."
"Hah, stepping up when you know jack shit..."
As he sneered and raised the whip again, a thick shadow loomed from behind.
The overseer felt his heart drop. Dread numbed his legs. He instinctively tried to flee before trouble erupted, but...
The jet-black axe blade struck his back first.
Splat-crunch!
"Guh! Guh-huh..."
"..."
Choking as breath caught in his throat, the overseer took another hit, then breathed his last with his shattered spine exposed.
Goltaran kicked the corpse aside indifferently and wiped the blood from his axe blade.
"Urk! I-It’s Agon’s Furious Horn!"
"Shit! What the hell! Thought he vanished—why now?!"
"Hieee!! R-Run, fuckers!"
The other overseers screamed and fled in terror. The slaves knelt in grateful awe, bowing their heads.
"Ooh, Gr-Great Warrior!"
"Great Warrior! The Great Warrior's finally back!!"
"The Great Warrior came to save us!"
The whipped child still couldn't steady himself. Goltaran approached the bloodied boy and extended a hand.
"...Can you stand?"
"Hic... Gr-Great Warrior...?"
Even wracked by unspeakable pain, the child's eyes shone pure as starlit orbs.
The gaze of one adoring a great hero, his shining idol. For some reason, it stirred an inexpressible guilt. The wavering Great Warrior, stripped of conviction, couldn't meet those eyes long.
No. I don't deserve such a look...
Goltaran hurriedly turned to the others. Familiar faces.
"You're... Yubik the Grand Master's slaves."
"Y-Yes, that's right, Great Warrior..."
"Why aren't you at the estate? Why out here? I got a firm promise he wouldn't sell you off elsewhere."
Yubik had pledged not to sell Atalain slaves until paid, respecting Goltaran's affection for his kin. Of course, it was really a leash to control the champion...
A murmur rose, then an answer emerged.
"We... don't know either. We heard the Grand Master handed us over to someone, and maybe that one needed quick cash and sold us off..."
"..."
Goltaran narrowed his eyes. Handing over so many kin knowing exactly how I'd react?
This wasn't some third party's doing. Yubik must have orchestrated it to lure him out. But he'd know it'd make enemies of them...
His eyes gleamed ominously under the helm, face twisting savagely. He quickly schooled his expression under their gazes.
"...We'll head back to Agon first. I'll speak to the Grand Master myself."
"Yes! Understood, Great Warrior!"
The slaves smiled brightly and followed their hero. Goltaran carried the bloodied child in one arm, gripped his axe in the other, and led the way back to Agon.
If it turned out he'd sold his kin for some trivial reason, he resolved to cleave the Arena King in half.