Chapter 109
Chapter 109
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 109
Chapter Title: Judgment of Atala (12)
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The finale was the crowning glory of the regular matches, so it was only natural that countless people flooded into the arena.
But today was something more.
No, not just more—it was utterly unprecedented.
"What the hell, it's like a pack of dogs swarming everywhere..."
"Aaah! Don't push! Don't push!!"
"There's no way we're getting in today..."
"Gods above, what in the world is going on..."
From the arena's entrance all the way to the outskirts of the central district, the crowds were packed so tight not even water could seep through. There were so many people that even a typical finale would look deserted by comparison. In this massive city, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say every soul who could walk had turned out.
"Alright, folks who've been waiting so patiently—the moment you've all been dreaming of is here! The greatest match in arena history! The greatest match in history starts any moment now! It's getting chaotic out there, so please be careful..."
The reason, just as the promoter said, was the hype for the 'greatest match in arena history.'
Agon’s Furious Horn versus the Demon Slayer.
A showdown destined to go down in legend. The dream match that all of Agon had been dying to see was finally here. Now everyone knew these two were equals in strength, so anticipation was higher than ever.
And there was another reason this match couldn't be missed.
"I heard Agon’s Furious Horn is retiring after this, win or lose?"
"Makes sense. He's the commander of the executive council's direct unit now—no reason to keep gladiating."
"Win or lose, he's going out in a blaze of glory..."
It was the final bout of the legendary champion who'd dominated as the undisputed king for nearly twenty years.
Not just to his fans, but even to his detractors, Agon’s Furious Horn was more than special—he was the living symbol of the arena itself. Miss this, and you'd never see him again. No one could afford to skip it.
Demand was sky-high, but seats were limited. Ticket prices shot through the roof. Even the nosebleed third-class seats started at the price of three ponies, and VIP boxes were impossible to snag even if you offered a chest of jewels. Scalpers and desperate buyers clustered in corners, haggling fiercely.
"Nine thousand! Anyone selling a single ticket for nine thousand luden?!"
"You... didn't you say you couldn't scrape together ten thousand luden?!"
"Sold the house! Come on, hand over the ticket!"
"Last third-class ticket! Last one! Eleven thousand luden—who'll bid higher?!"
"Twelve thousand! Twelve thousand—I'll take it!"
"Thirteen thousand! Gold here's—give it here!"
"Hey, what the—? Th-thief! Thief! That bastard stole my ticket!"
Even those who couldn't snag a ticket refused to give up.
Some slipped in amid the chaos by tailing others. Some dug holes like moles. Some scaled the outer walls on a razor's edge. Get caught, and the guards would run you through without mercy—but everyone was gambling their lives to see this fight.
If the outside was like that, the inside was beyond words. Seats meant for one were crammed with two or three. The stands were over capacity, bursting at the seams. Even before the match started, cheers erupted like wildfires everywhere.
"Demon Slayer!! Demon Slayer!! Demon Slayer!!"
"Agon’s Furious Horn!! Agon’s Furious Horn!! Agon’s Furious Horn!!"
And in the arena's underbelly, the gladiators' waiting area.
Kadim sat silently, detached from the storm like the eye of a hurricane. A sharp, predatory stillness hung palpably around him, like a beast biding its time with fangs hidden.
One foolhardy soul approached without fear.
"Hahaha! All prepped for the big one, Demon Slayer? Feels like yesterday you fought your debut for free, and now you're in the finals!"
It was Yubik Agrámendus, the Arena King. A fat, smug grin spread across the face of the man raking in astronomical profits.
"What did I tell you when we first met? I saw star potential in you as a gladiator, right? Heh, my eye never fails! How's it feel to be the star of the highest-grossing match in the arena's century-long history?"
"...Get to the point."
"Hahaha! Still stiff as ever! Fine, fine... just the business, as our provisional champ wants."
His chubby cheeks sagged. Yubik's face hardened instantly.
"Just a friendly reminder: whatever you do, don't kill Agon’s Furious Horn. You haven't forgotten your oath on Atala's name, have you? If he dies, it'll be a headache for both of us..."
"..."
Kadim listened in silence, then cracked a sly smirk.
"Don't kill Agon’s Furious Horn? I never swore that."
Yubik's yellowed eyes bulged.
"What're you talking about? You swore it right in front of me!"
"I swore not to kill 'Atala’s Great Warrior,' not Agon’s Furious Horn."
"Damn it... this isn't the time for word games! It's the same thing! If not Agon’s Furious Horn, then who the hell is Atala’s Great Warrior?!"
Yubik's indignant rant cut off dead. The hulking man's impassive gaze, the eerie chill crawling up his neck. He couldn't pinpoint why, but instincts honed rolling in blood-soaked slaughterhouses screamed one thing.
He'd been had.
Agon’s Furious Horn wasn't Atala’s Great Warrior.
"W-wait a sec..."
CLANG!
The gong rang out right on cue. Kadim rose and strode into the passage without a glance back. Yubik's wail echoed behind him, ignored. Now was the time for unrestricted, unhesitating judgment.
The finale had no weapon restrictions. Kadim's gear was much the same as last time, save for the iron flask at his belt. As he emerged past the iron bars, earth-shaking cheers poured down like a monsoon.
"WAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!"
"DEMON SLAYER!!"
Whoooosh!Whoooosh!Whoooosh!
"BOOOOO! BOOOOOOO!!"
"Die, Demon Slayer!! Die, Demon Slayer!!"
The crowd's reactions remained sharply divided. But support had thinned compared to before, while the boos grew thicker. Many still smarted from the axe toss and taunts.
Kadim paid it no mind. Even if that entire mob turned to kill him, his eyes wouldn't twitch. No—he'd welcome it. A chance to slaughter those cowards who turned struggle and death into spectacle.
Innocent of the gladiator's grim thoughts, the arena's fever pitched to a peak. Challenger in place—now for the champion. Eyes brimming with eagerness locked on the right entrance.
"Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on!"
"Agon’s Furious Horn!! Agon’s Furious Horn!! Agon’s Furious Horn!!"
Yet one minute passed.
"Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on!"
Two minutes.
"Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on!"
Three, four, five... no matter how long, the champion didn't appear.
"Come on... Come on... Come o..."
The deafening cheers faded to a hush. Whispers of confusion spread like a rustling breeze through grass. Spectators tilted heads, shrugged at each other.
Kadim shared the doubt at first. No way the champion fled before the finale... Where the hell was he?
Then, suddenly.
...Thud thud, thud thud thud...
He felt a faint vibration, a presence approaching—not from the entrance, but from beyond the isolation wall. Unnaturally fast.
"...!"
He whipped his head just as—
――――――――― BOOM!!!
The right isolation wall exploded in a thunderous roar.
"Wha..."
"Kyaa..."
Adjacent seats detonated too, hurling spectators into the air. The intruder who burst through the wall dashed like lightning, reaching Kadim before anyone hit the ground.
Whoosh!
Kadim swung on pure spinal reflex. But the brute was faster. He twisted aside and slammed a merciless kick into Kadim's gut.
CRUNCH!
"...!"
His belly caved in, innards threatening to pulp.
――――――――― BOOM!!
Kadim's body rocketed into the opposite wall. The entire spectator section shuddered, cracks spiderwebbing the stone. It all happened too fast for the crowd to react.
Only one responded instantly to the chaos.
"...Hngh, cough."
Sizzle—crack!
―――――― BOOM, RUMBLECRASH!
The jagged bolt sliced through the dust, hurtling at inescapable speed. Blue fire flashed in the intruder's eyes—then exploded in blinding light.
Flash!
The thunderbolt shoved the brute back. For a split second, even he staggered. But it was just that—a split second. He recovered, axe raised, and charged again.
――――――――― BOOM, CRASH!
The axe-swing's boom overlapped delayed thunder. Kadim slid aside, dodging—but the isolation wall took another brutal hit and shattered. The shockwave collapsed the stands like a breached dam. Spectators tumbled in heaps, forming layers of twisted bones and mangled flesh.
"Urgh, uwaaa..."
"Kyaaaaaaa!!"
"Aaaah!! Uwaaaaa!!"
"Huergh, urk, uuu..."
Screams and groans of agony echoed. From epicenter to edges, shock and terror spread like plague through the stands. Everyone bolted for exits at once, turning the overpacked arena into a hellish pandemonium in seconds.
Amid it all, Kadim desperately fended off the rampaging foe.
Sizzle—crack, whoosh!BOOM, crash!
Dodge the axe, draw Blood Ghost, swing Lightning Strike, punch, block the kick. Aftereffects from the ambush slowed him. He activated the Hydra Tattoo to heal, drawing on buffs to fight back.
Hummm—
Yet Kadim was still on the back foot.
It was inevitable. In a brief lull amid the frenzy, Kadim panted and finally sized up the enemy.
"Huff, huff, huff..."
"..."
Deep-horned helm, bulging savage muscles, jet-black battle axe etched with ancient runes... and a hazy yellow aura swirling like dust storms.
Agon’s Furious Horn.
He'd already taken in the Judgment of Atala.
The relic lived up to a war god's fame, granting overwhelming might. Even a commoner wielding it would be tough—but a seasoned warrior? No contest. Surviving this long without being pulped was a miracle.
"Kuhuuugh..."
Murky steam vented from Agon’s Furious Horn's mouth. A glimpse of his eyes showed no whites—just pitch black.
It wasn't the relic's doing. It wrecked the body, not the mind. Only one thing could turn him into this mindless berserker fixated solely on Kadim.
'The Wildland Witch cast a spell. Something that lets him think of nothing but killing the enemy...'
Likely a 'berserk' enchantment.
The cost was curse-like, but for pure slaughter, it was peerlessly effective. Berserk traded reason for explosive combat power. Paired with Judgment of Atala and his killer instincts, it forged an invincible murderer no one could match.
'Desperate measure to ensure I'm dead? But he was strong enough with just the relic...'
Why go to such extremes? Unclear. Right now, dodging and subduing him mattered more.
The invincible slayer unleashed his true assault.
―――――――― BOOM!!!
One axe swing split the earth. Kadim wasn't even grazed, yet the shockwave flung him far. He scrambled up to close in—but thought better.
The opener was warmup. The real barrage followed.
――――――――― WHOOSH! BOOM!! BOOM!!
Savage arcs tore the air, scarring the ground like wounds, earth trembling perilously.
No finesse—just raw, transcendent power and speed. Air split into gales; each ground-pound quaked the arena. Even Kadim couldn't pierce that storm.
Flash, clang!
Even Lightning Strike infused with thunder bounced harmlessly. Trading blows was impossible. After endless evasion, Kadim concluded: only two ways out.
Wait for the relic's backlash to crumble his body.
Or unleash his own 'destructive power' to match the monster.
"Kuhk, kuhuff..."
The first was a pipe dream. As his body faltered, the brute chugged from an iron flask. His dangling arm snapped back into place.
Crunch, crickle—
Elixir delaying the relic's toll. The witch had left him wits enough for that.
"..."
Four more flasks hung at his belt. No enduring till they ran dry.
No choice now. He had to summon his own 'destructive power' against this beast.
Decision made, no hesitation.
Kadim uncorked his iron flask. The instant the lid popped, a blood reek so foul it numbed the senses flooded out.
No revulsion. Despite the putrid stench, an eerie euphoria surged. He wanted to gulp it all—but restrained, sipping just enough.
Thick as rotten pus, the blood slid down his throat. The parched thirst quenched at last, and before his eyes, a phantom appeared.
Tick, tick, tick...
A tiny blue pocket watch, devouring seconds.
Kadim seized it and shook it fiercely reverse.
Then the hands spun backward, whirling...
Crunch, crickle, craaack—
...reaching the divergence, his skeleton, muscles, tendons, veins, nerves dramatically reshaped.
And power flooded his body, enough to rend anything.
Kadim glared at the 'fake Great Warrior' with hollow eyes.
"Kuhk, kuhuuugh!"
"..."
Borrowing greater demon blood, the first playthrough's berserker opened its eyes once more.