Chapter 108
Chapter 108
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 108
Chapter Title: Judgment of Atala (11)
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A room thick with golden flower buds. At the center of the ritual circle overgrown with lush greenery.
The witch of the wilderness, who had guarded this single spot for long ages, suddenly widened her eyes in shock.
"...!"
She had seen everything that transpired in the arena.
A witch confined to ruins could not normally behold the outside world. Yet she had devised a forbidden method.
The Root of the Wilderness.
A cursed artifact implanted in the witch's flesh that, when activated, drained the land's vitality and turned the surrounding area into barren wasteland.
Its range left all water dried up and the soil infertile—a curse that brought endless ruin. But for the witches of the wilderness alone, it reversed into a potent blessing. They drew greater divine power from the parched earth and wielded amplified abilities.
Long ago, someone had entrusted her with this artifact, imploring her to seal it tightly so no hand could touch it. Yet she had used it in the end. The spreading wasteland granted her new eyes and considerable divine power.
Thus, even in confinement, she could peer outside and cast simple spells. Moreover, she gathered the vitality of perished life from above and cultivated elixir ingredients within the ruins.
Though Agon was laid waste and she was bound to this spot for centuries as the price, the witch harbored not a speck of regret. Without it, she never could have learned of the outside world or forged "Atala's Great Warrior" on her own.
But now, all her efforts seemed on the verge of crumbling to dust.
The "true Great Warrior," whom she thought would never return after endless waiting, had come back. The warrior heralding judgment was crushing all hostile foes who dared block his path with superhuman might. Even the Atalan warriors armed with blessed weapons had fallen, and his next opponent was...
Goltaran—her nurtured "false Great Warrior."
Once he faced judgment, hers would surely follow. Unable to bear the anxiety, the witch squeezed her eyes shut.
Objectively, Goltaran held the higher odds of victory for now. But if, by some chance, he lost or forfeited Judgment of Atala, his chances plummeted to near zero. His prowess relied more on that devastatingly powerful divine weapon than his own strength...
Without her divine power returning, she lacked the might to stop a Great Warrior herself. She pondered offering the "Needle of Branding" even now and negotiating to spare Goltaran...
Suddenly, an unfamiliar vision seeped into the witch's mind.
"...Hmm?"
The surroundings faded into the distance, revealing a vast, barren wilderness. A warrior stood tall, his back to the sun. At first, she dismissed it as a commonplace wilderness vision.
But by the vision's end, the witch recoiled in terror.
"...Gasp!"
Something blood-red tore from living flesh.
Within that warrior lurked an indescribably horrific calamity.
She nearly stopped breathing. The witch's bloodshot eyes bulged as she panted raggedly.
"Hahk, hahk, hahk..."
It took ages to recover from the shock. Once calm, her thoughts had utterly shifted. Clenching her shrunken fist, the witch resolved herself firmly.
"...I must kill him. Kill him, that one. Kill him no matter what."
She would slay the "source of calamity" and forge Goltaran into the true Great Warrior.
*
Right after Perun departed, Goltaran's first emotions were betrayal and rage. But as time passed, they morphed into something else.
A thought that perhaps everything had been wrong from the start.
His mind sank into the past. In the memory, he was a rookie gladiator tense before his debut.
'Waaaaah...'
'...Huff, huff, huff.'
Sweat dripped from his nose. His heart pounded as if it might burst. Imagining death moments away made the crowd's cheers sound more horrific than screams from hell.
Overwhelmed, he bolted from his seat. Fleeing blindly from the waiting area, he stumbled into a sealed zone by chance. Spotting a stone slab etched with ancient script, he approached as if entranced and placed his hand on it...
Kiriririring...
...A sealed ruin appeared, and a clear voice echoed in his mind.
'[You're... not Atala's Great Warrior. How did you end up here?]'
He didn't grasp the meaning then. But instinct told him denying it would get him ejected on the spot.
His tongue moved before his thoughts.
'N-No. I am Atala's Great Warrior.'
'[...Absurd. Do you even know what "Atala's Great Warrior" means?]'
'Y-Yes. I am Atala's Great Warrior. T-Test me. I'll prove it somehow.'
'[...Very well. I'll give you a trial—overcome it if you can.]'
The trial was brutally horrific, far worse than arena fights. By the end, his hand bones were crushed, cheekbones caved in, joints twisted backward, and entrails spilled from his navel for all to see.
'Gaaah! Khk, kkhrrgh...'
Yet he didn't die. Through grit and luck, he survived the trial. The aged witch summoned his near-corpse to the ritual circle and fixed him with a piercing gaze.
'My eyes were wrong. You were right. You... are Atala's Great Warrior.'
'Gaaahk, hahk, urgh, uurrgh...'
'Enough. No more whining. There—soak in that golden pool. The mystical elixir will heal all wounds. Once recovered, take this.'
'Kkhrrgh, hahk, hahk... W-What is that axe?'
'This is the great divine weapon left by the previous Great Warrior...'
The witch of the wilderness bestowed Judgment of Atala and passed down the knowledge a Great Warrior must know.
After that, Goltaran's life changed.
From a cowardly gladiator fleeing death's fear, to "Atala's Great Warrior," proxy of the War God's will.
With a laundered identity and Yubik's backing, he debuted spectacularly anew. He rose as arena champion, rescued kin in dire straits, and became a revered hero. In time, old memories faded; even he never doubted his identity as "Atala's Great Warrior."
But now, that certainty wavered.
The seed of doubt planted by a certain merchant, nurtured amid stolen praise, nearly buried under rage at the madman—but Perun's parting words and these recollections swelled it anew.
Worse, even his fury toward the Demon Slayer proved unjustified.
"...Yubik never handed Atalan slaves to outsiders?"
"Yes, Great Warrior. All evidence of the Demon Slayer receiving them was fabricated. It seems the boss acted on his own to smuggle them out of Agon..."
"..."
As his rage cooled, objectivity returned. Fleeting words from his mind or etched deep swirled chaotically.
'That axe is mine.'
'...The true Atala's Great Warrior, fighting for honor unknown to all.'
'You know better than I what I mean, Goltaran.'
'...No way he returned. No way. Of course not...'
All clues and testimonies converged on one conclusion. Goltaran rushed to the ruins. As always, the withered witch awaited in the ritual circle's center.
"Witch... You've seen it all, known it all along."
"..."
Eyes clouded by time's dust. Familiar, yet today utterly alien. Goltaran swallowed dryly and spat his gnawed words.
"I ask you."
"..."
"Am I the 'false Great Warrior' you made from impatience... and is the Demon Slayer the 'true one' who vanished?"
Ripples stirred in the witch's murky eyes.
But they were swiftly swallowed by eerie light. A voice like crumpling iron plate boomed through the room—heavy and sharp.
'[No, he is no Great Warrior. You alone are Atala's Great Warrior, proxy of the War God's will.]'
"...Then why tremble in fear these past days?"
'[Because he is the "source of calamity," bearing a horrific disaster. Your body, our sole hope against it, isn't fully recovered—how could this old frame not quake?]'
Goltaran's eyes twitched. Memories flashed of the Demon Slayer rampaging madly, razing a city.
Yet as the merchant noted first, he hadn't only wrought calamity.
"Truly... can you affirm that? Didn't you say I never even glimpsed the central demon's face? Circumstantially, it was that prior arrival who slew it and saved the alliance..."
'[Didn't you say it first?]'
"...Hm?"
'[You came to me first and declared clearly: you are Atala's Great Warrior, slayer of great evil and savior of the world. So why now speak otherwise?]'
Her gaze blazed like a thousand flames. Goltaran fell silent, chewing his lip in torment, on the verge of confessing the rotten truth.
"That... wasn't true. A desperate lie to survive..."
The witch cut him off sternly.
'[Silence.]'
"...What?"
'[Enough whining. I'm weary of a so-called Great Warrior flip-flopping. How many times must I repeat it for certainty? You are Atala's Great Warrior. You are Atala's Great Warrior. Atala's Great Warrior! Atala's Great Warrior!! Atala's Great Warrior!!! You—are—Atala's Great Warrior!!!]'
Her enraged voice shredded into fragments. Yellow madness gleamed in turbid pupils; her wrinkled face twisted demonically. Goltaran froze in shock.
"Witch... You're... not sane...? What madness is this...?"
'[You alone are Atala's Great Warrior. You alone enact the War God's will. Even if not, I'll make you the true one. Wait—the power to slay the "source of calamity" and be reborn true shall be yours...]'
Kugugugugu...
The stone floor trembled violently. Murky flashes erupted from the ritual circle. Sensing ill omen, Goltaran raised his axe hastily, but the witch completed her incantation faster.
Guuung, guuuu—
Turbid beams enveloped Goltaran, writhing like vipers to burrow into his flesh.
*
Night in the wasteland, somewhat removed from Agon. His departure from the city loomed near. The barbarian and merchant dined outside together after some time.
Kadim downed a cup of wine and asked.
"In your eyes, what sort of man was Agon's Furious Horn?"
Duncan flinched and replied.
"Uh, well... J-Just some nobody... Impersonating Atala's Great Warrior... Losing to a merchant like me..."
"No reprimand for honesty—speak true."
Duncan hemmed before confessing frankly.
"...Sigh... Truth be told, no ordinary fool. He had this overwhelming dignity—even chatting with him crushed a plain man like me... He aided struggling kin, freed slaves, earned admiration. Had I known nothing, I'd have seen him as a grand hero..."
"..."
"His might was more demon or monster than man. Entering Soltana first, didn't he cleave the gates with one axe swing? Save you, milord, I've seen no human so strong..."
"..."
"My 'victory' over him... wasn't one. Pure luck—he was battered, off-guard. Had he willed it, he'd have pulped me instantly..."
With Atala's Divine Relic, he could have. Kadim nodded silently. Duncan glanced slyly and piled on flattery.
"O-Of course, you're far greater, milord! No clue why rumors flew he slew demons. Against a central one? He'd not last a punch... You'll win tomorrow's match, no doubt—worry not!"
A swift pivot nullifying prior words. Greed for gold sparkled in his pebble eyes. Kadim let out a faint scoff, then hardened his expression.
"...Did he say how he obtained Judgment of Atala?"
"Judgment of Atala...? Ah, that black axe? No, he never said... But claimed it bore the wilderness father's and prior Great Warrior's will... Wouldn't let anyone touch it, I recall..."
"..."
No random find would carry such lore.
'As expected... the witch of the wilderness handed it over.'
Mysteries around Agon's Furious Horn mostly pieced together. All that remained: defeat him, reclaim the divine weapon, verify truth, deliver judgment.
No easy fight. Judgment of Atala granted absurdly ruinous power. But if only easy battles called, he never would have reached here. Kadim cracked his neck and steeled his resolve.
"...Time to head back. Pack up, Duncan."
"Yes, milord!"
The pair returned to Yubik's mansion for rest.
And the next morning.
The day of the finals—at last, to settle with the champion—had dawned.