Chapter 105
Chapter 105
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Judgment of Atala (8)
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Kadim noticed the devil's blood in the wine glass the moment he saw it.
'...That bastard spiked the wine with demon blood.'
It was blood from a lesser primordial demon he'd captured about half a month ago. The fishy stench assaulted his nose, impossible to ignore.
Drinking demon blood would cause fatal internal injuries to an ordinary person, so it wasn't a bad choice as a poison. The problem was that the target was him.
Kadim set the glass aside. There was no need to drink it. Just relying on such a petty trick showed that the coward hiding behind the wall was small fry he could handle even without the demon blood.
But as he turned to leave, a heavy impulse slammed into his mind, blurring his consciousness.
Thud—crunch!
When he came to, he'd drained the glass and crushed his opponent's skull underfoot in the arena.
"...".
He hadn't drunk any for a while, so his thirst for demon blood had grown too intense. Once the impulse hit, he couldn't control himself at all.
And the craving still lingered. The blood he'd consumed was from a low-grade demon, not particularly high quality.
It wasn't nearly enough. Every cell in his body screamed for more. For blood that would fiercely stimulate his nerves and squeeze his muscles—for stronger, more potent demon blood, the kind from a higher demon that granted destructive power...
"M-My lord... Are... are you alright?"
Kadim stared blankly at Duncan.
Duncan's face was different from usual. It overlapped grotesquely with the gladiator he'd just killed—a face with worried eyes, but its skull smashed and mangled.
Rubbing his eyes restored the merchant's face to normal. This bout of manic hallucination had been superficial.
Still, he couldn't let his guard down. It might flare up again.
"I might not be alright. Withdraw for now."
"...Pardon?"
"My chronic condition's acting up. Get back and make sure no one approaches for a while."
Duncan's eyes widened like a rabbit's. He asked if he was okay, if there was anything he could do, over and over—then fled without looking back.
Kadim closed his eyes and silently waited for the mania and craving to fully subside.
*
The Arena King, Yubik, was nominally Kadim's sponsor.
Their relationship was far from normal, with his life constantly threatened, but Yubik didn't neglect his sponsor duties. One perk was letting him stay at his mansion and use all its facilities.
The grand estate was packed with luxuries: a training ground for over a hundred at once, an artificial oasis rivaling a lake, a banquet hall decked out like a theater, a rest room with slaves always on standby to relieve fatigue, a dining hall ready to serve endless delicacies...
Kadim ignored it all. He only used the large bathhouse. In this water-scarce region, there was nowhere to wash off the blood and sweat after fights. He'd barely calmed his mania and returned, heading straight there again.
But as he entered, soft voices he'd never heard before greeted him.
"Welcome, Lord Kadim. You worked hard today. We've heated the bath water in advance."
"Hand over your clothes. Enter the bath first to relax—we'll help wash your body."
Women clad in thin sheepskin cloth.
Alliance folk, northerners, even Atalans mixed in. A slender Atalan woman with glossy bronze skin and long black hair stepped forward demurely as representative.
Kadim met her gaze with a curt look.
"Who are you?"
"We're the slaves assigned to attend your bath today."
"...Did that boss send you?"
"Yes, the Grand Master ordered us to serve you with utmost care. But... that's not the only reason. We personally wanted to repay your grace."
Kadim frowned slightly. The woman's eyes gleamed like polished obsidian.
"Yesterday, you showed mercy and spared the slaves thrown into the 'blind hunt.' We're all family of those survivors. My little sister owes her life to your boundless mercy."
"...".
"If a heartless fighter had gone out, we'd all have lost kin. We thank you belatedly for this chance. Our humble bodies pale against your great kindness, but we'll do our utmost to satisfy you."
She placed a hand on her chest and bowed. The others followed suit. Their gestures carried genuine gratitude.
But Kadim replied curtly.
"No need. Go peddle your bath services to fools who can't wash themselves."
"...".
The woman blinked in flustered surprise, her long eyelids trembling. But she soon swept back her damp hair and added in a seductive tone.
"If our uninvited arrival displeases you, we apologize. But we're not just here to wash you. We know the exhausting fatigue and pent-up vitality from your arena exploits must be immense. We'll sincerely cleanse that impure energy..."
"Impure energy, you say?"
"...Yes?"
"You won't survive it. Touch that, and you'll all die."
Thinking it mere masculine bravado, she started to respond with a light smile.
But seeing Kadim's expression, she realized it wasn't that kind of talk.
"...Sounded like a joke?"
Terror gripped her legs. She collapsed to her knees. Kadim turned his cold gaze away and waved dismissively.
"Leave. Before you get hurt meddling."
"S-Sorry. We'll... withdraw now. Th-Thank you again... If you change your mind, c-call us anytime."
The Atalan woman fled with the others. Alone in the bathhouse, Kadim stripped with a stern face and washed away the bloodstained sweat.
He could guess Yubik's intent. Feeling threatened after last time, he'd schemed some chain to bind him.
But setting aside impure motives, embracing women was rat poison to Kadim's mind. Satisfying base urges dulled reason, making mania flare easily. He had no desire to threaten innocent lives like in his first playthrough.
And it wasn't just women harming his psyche.
Juicy meats dripping fat, wines rich with sweet aromas, silken robes, cloud-soft beds... Everything the tycoon offered to curry favor wreaked havoc.
Luxuries tempted old memories. Indulging would rust the knife-sharp mind honed for slicing, stabbing, slashing, dismembering foes. That was why he'd stuck to rough food and beds.
But that resolve shook violently upon seeing something in the bedroom.
"...".
Silver surface beaded with dew, steam drifting like mist, white foam blooming softly at the rim.
A canned beer.
A chilled, refreshing canned beer, perfectly recreating old memories, sat on the table.
No Easter egg would produce such a thing. It had to be a hallucination. Yet he gripped the can like mesmerized. The cold bit his palm. Too real to doubt.
He stared at the beer can with trembling eyes.
His mind sank into dark depths, awakening the buried self.
The man wasn't truly Kadim—he was a modern soul. But before this world dulled and broke him, he'd hidden that self. He'd strived to think, act, speak as Kadim. After first and second playthroughs, he'd thought he'd buried the modern self deep.
But a defense mechanism always lingered at his psyche's base.
Killing on sight, butchering humans like meat, gulping demon blood and rampaging in mania—none of that was him.
He wasn't Kadim.
Yet observing the mind craving cool canned beer, the body responding with a parched tongue—it was impossible to separate himself from Kadim.
He tilted the can aside slowly. The golden foam scattered, the cold can vanishing like a mirage. The hallucination meant mania lingered.
The man let go of beer and stray thoughts. No time for escapism or sentiment. The crucial duel loomed. Now was the time to be Kadim—the Great Warrior of Atala.
To judge the false warrior, wasteland witch, and fallen hall mocking struggle.
The man buried himself again, awakening Kadim.
The place felt wrong. He leaped out the window, escaping the opulent mansion. Night had fallen quietly, but the festival-fevered city blazed sleepless. To avoid recognition and hassle, he slipped stealthily to the outskirts.
Finally reaching a desolate wasteland. Kadim leaned against a boulder, ruminating, then looked skyward.
Elga's eyes had vanished; the moon drowned in darkness. Only shattered glass-like stars twinkled.
The Great Warrior's heart thudded dully, like war drums.
*
After the 'Vile Hunter' died, strange rumors spread from Agon's black market.
The Demon Slayer had contracted with a demon for superhuman power.
Reactions split sharply.
Half dismissed it outright.
"Cut the bullshit! A mercenary who slayed demons by the mountain contracting with one?!"
"Demon Slayer!! Demon Slayer!! Demon Slayer!!"
"Hero who repelled demons and saved the Golden Highway!! Incarnation of unyielding struggle!!"
"Agon's Furious Horn's era is over!!! Hail the new champion!!!"
They were captivated by his overwhelming might and nonchalant demeanor against any foe. Ignoring rumors, they yearned for him to reach the finals and topple the champion.
The other half believed fervently.
"Damn, knew it! No wonder he fights like a monster, not human!"
"He contracted with a demon! Sold his soul!!"
"Don't get cocky, Demon Slayer! Without demon power, you're worth less than a goblin—everyone knows it!!"
"This is rigged! Void all matches! Refund my money!!"
They were convinced he tainted the arena with demonic power. They spread rumors, praying for his swift defeat and death.
Agon split down the middle over it. Spectators growled mildly, but gamblers who'd won or lost fortunes drew blades. Praising or cursing the Demon Slayer in markets invited brickbats to the skull from opponents.
Amid it, the main tournament progressed steadily.
Bone Dust Crusher, Net Devourer, Crimson Butcher... Famous gladiators fell to Kadim's sword and axe. Finals neared; only one match left.
Time to select the champion's challenger: the 'Armed Battle.'
Rules: Equip as desired, one-on-one. Ancient dwarf relics, god-blessed weapons, mage artifacts—no limits. Upsets abounded as skill shone.
Yet Kadim felt no tension.
Red sword, bluish axe, dagger blazing hellfire. Superior arms and prowess left no worry of defeat. Unless the opponent borrowed 'Judgment of Atala' from the champion...
But right before start, an unexpected guest arrived.
"Long time no see, mercenary. Congratulations—finals already in sight. Preparations going well?"
"...".
Adonis, the Agon faction healer who'd traveled from the wasteland.
Kadim furrowed his brow. Wondered why he appeared now after vanishing. Adonis smiled warmly.
"Just to inform you: opponent's changed. Original foe, 'Utan's Ogre,' forfeited yesterday. Probably feared losing his life to you, haha! So, a special gladiator I invited will substitute—we've agreed with the other bosses."
Ridiculous. Springing this now? Lines creased Kadim's forehead.
"...Is Agon's Furious Horn coming out himself?"
"Pardon? H-Haha... Sadly no. But you'll like this one. Top-notch skill, and deeply connected to you."
"...".
"Used to be called 'Indomitable Warrior,' but needs a new title now. Name him yourself after facing him. Well, fight well—I'm off to the stands..."
The departing healer wore a sly smile. Kadim considered grabbing his neck for answers.
But the gong signaling start rang out.
Gooong!
"...".
Reprimands could wait. End this pointless fight first. Whatever trick, whoever came—slashing throats and guts killed them all the same.
Entering the arena, Kadim instantly understood the healer's words.
"Waaaaaaaaah!!!"
"Demon Slayer!! Demon Slayer! Demon Slayer!!"
"Boooooo!! Booooo!!"
Cheering throats and jeering thumbs meant nothing. Kadim's eyes fixed solely on the opposite fighter.
Muscled body tattooed over, sword and axe etched with ancient runes, eerily glowing black eyes, thick hook replacing right hand.
The gladiator's cracked lips moved. A murmur as quiet as breath rode the wind faintly to his ear.
"Long time no see, brother Kadim. Never thought we'd meet like this..."
"...".
Kadim's lips twitched faintly.
Then he silently glared at the one-armed warrior, Perun.