Chapter 99
Chapter 99
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: Judgment of Atala (2)
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Kadim met Yubik, the Arena King, again as promised.
Yubik didn't laugh boisterously or spew honeyed words like last time, nor did he rage with insults. He simply downed his liquor in steady gulps, maintaining a calm and composed demeanor. From their previous encounter, Kadim had already figured out that this attitude was the most advantageous for negotiations.
The portly tycoon emptied one bottle in a single go and personally fetched a fresh one.
"It feels a bit rude to drink alone while leaving my guest untouched. Care for a glass? It's brewed from fresh ogre bones packed full of marrow. The sticky, clinging flavor is simply exquisite."
"……."
Kadim declined. Yubik showed no reaction and continued drinking alone. After draining another bottle, he impassively wiped his mouth and interlaced his thick fingers.
"I heard you went into the gladiators' waiting area in the arena. Were you perhaps trying to track down Agon's Furious Horn there too?"
It wasn't the case, but Kadim saw no need to explain the complicated details. Yubik shrugged.
"Well, I doubt you found anything. Agon's Furious Horn has truly vanished without a trace. I figured his underlings might know his whereabouts, but my investigations suggest otherwise. Plenty of people saw him return to Agon... It's enough to make ghosts wail in frustration."
"……So, you haven't found a way to contact him either?"
Yubik nodded his fleshy chin regretfully.
Tension rippled through Kadim's hardened muscles, as if he were ready to tear the man apart with his bare hands. Yet Yubik remained unfazed and spoke nonchalantly.
"Hold on, but that doesn't mean there's no way to find Agon's Furious Horn."
"……?"
"Phew... Of course, this is a method I absolutely shouldn't use under normal circumstances..."
He dropped his gaze and paused dramatically before letting out a deep, honest sigh and diving into the main topic.
"Our first meeting wasn't exactly pleasant, but let's brush aside past grudges and talk straight."
"……."
"Right. I want to make you a gladiator, no matter what it takes. But unlike other mercenaries, you're not swayed by money, honor, women, or any of those worldly temptations, are you?"
"……."
"The only way to recruit you is to help with your goal. That blind obsession to find Agon's Furious Horn and kill him. Whether it's for revenge, Atala's innate love of battle, or greed for a hero's fame and possessions—I don't care about the reason. What matters is that I can help you achieve it, and you can help me in return."
"……You're taking the long way around. So, what's your proposal?"
"I'll draw out Agon's Furious Horn so you can face him. With the condition that the fight happens in the arena, not elsewhere. And since he's the champion and you're the challenger, you'll need to go through several matches first to earn the right to challenge him."
Deep furrows etched into the barbarian's brow. Yubik waved it off casually, as if it were no surprise.
"Yeah, I know. This offer won't be all that welcome... But there's something we need to clarify first. The method I'm about to use to summon Agon's Furious Horn carries enormous risk for me too. I wouldn't even consider it if it weren't to help you..."
"……What kind of method is it that makes you hesitate like this?"
"I can't tell you that. If I did, you'd just try it yourself, wouldn't you? Anyway, I wanted you to know I'm staking my reputation on recruiting you. So... if you're going to take, you have to give in return."
"……."
A gaze sharper and keener than a freshly forged blade flew toward Yubik. Even meeting those eyes, Yubik showed no discomfort. Everything he'd said was the truth, after all.
In negotiations and deals, lies were swords, and truth was a shield. With a sturdy shield planted before him, he could stand tall even against this ferocious mercenary.
Kadim vaguely sensed it too. It meant that without playing the clown in the arena, there would be no hope of killing Agon's Furious Horn and reclaiming Judgment of Atala.
Yet he couldn't accept the offer lightly.
It wasn't just a matter of pride. Only now did Kadim truly understand why everything about that arena stirred such fundamental disgust in him.
It turned 'struggle' into spectacle and mocked it.
At the lofty peak of his heart stood Atala's great warrior, burning with rage. It wasn't enough to merely refuse the offer—he solemnly vowed to rip apart and judge that den of depravity that defiled struggle, the tycoon who fattened himself on it, Agon's Furious Horn, the wasteland shaman, all of it...
But another side of him existed as well.
At the deepest bottom of his heart lurked a man who deemed it all meaningless. What did it matter if they made struggle a spectacle? In game terms, it was just an event dungeon. His real place was outside this world anyway, so he shouldn't get too immersed in playing the great warrior...
You are not Kadim.
Caught in this contradiction, lost in inner conflict...
Suddenly, a commotion erupted from outside the door.
'Huh, what's that?'
'Who the hell is this guy! How long have you been lurking here...'
'Agh, let go of m—...'
Bam! Boom!
The parlor door burst open, and a tangle of bodies spilled inside chaotically. It was the mercenaries guarding the door—and Duncan.
Yubik squinted his droopy eyes and lowered his voice sharply.
"……What is this? I said absolutely no interruptions during this important talk."
"W-well, boss... This guy was eavesdropping outside the parlor..."
"I-it's a misunderstanding! W-what is it, oh mighty Arena King! I'm no suspicious character—I'm Kadim's companion over there, Duncan Wheeled! I just wanted to hear what you were discussing as his associate and see if there was any way this humble merchant could assist..."
"……."
Yubik glanced subtly toward Kadim, who nodded to confirm Duncan was indeed his companion.
Yubik let out a chuckle and dismissed the mercenaries. Then, with an air of arrogance, he turned to Duncan.
"So, did you catch the gist of our conversation? Was there anything you could help with?"
"Ah, yes, of course! Well... Your lordship clearly values things far beyond worldly gains, but in living in this world, money is still quite necessary at times, isn't it? Surely the esteemed Arena King wouldn't be stingy in that regard..."
"……."
Duncan launched into a lengthy speech. In summary: 'Since you're making our lord a gladiator anyway, pay him handsomely.' For Kadim, who hadn't even accepted the offer yet, it was absurd.
But his mind changed after hearing the rest.
"Fine, so how much are you asking for?"
"Oh, n-no, we don't expect a fortune by any means! If your lordship defeats Agon's Furious Horn and wins! And becomes the new arena champion! Then... gold to fill..."
Duncan spilled the full proposal, tense with nerves.
"……."
"……."
Yubik snorted in derision.
It was ridiculous. From his flowery words, he'd expected demands for a king's ransom, but it was such a paltry sum? Well, to a small-time merchant who'd never handled more, it must seem like a fortune...
But Kadim's reaction was different.
He knew full well how insane the proposal was. He stared at Duncan. Stiffened lips, legs trembling from extreme tension. A sight so pathetic it was impossible to imagine him pulling off such a bold scam.
Yet if he accepted and Kadim became champion... the tycoon who'd gorged on the arena would surely lose his entire fortune and go bankrupt.
Suddenly, Kadim felt a rare emotion surge within him—one he hadn't experienced much since falling into this damned game world.
He wanted to burst into laughter.
Loud enough to shake the parlor, clutching his belly, hearty and refreshing. To dare such a mad scheme without fear—the merchant had grown bold. Right, judgment didn't always require tearing flesh and spilling blood.
But laughing that hard would tip off the tycoon. He swallowed the rising feeling and resumed his usual impassive expression.
Yubik jiggled his jowls and rubbed his palms together.
"Alright, that's no big ask. If you really become champion, sure."
"……Th-thank you! Oh Arena King!"
"But first... it seems he needs to accept my proposal."
The great warrior in his heart stepped back. For the sake of true judgment, he willingly entered the den of depravity. After pretending to agonize at length, Kadim accepted the offer to become a gladiator.
Yubik's eyes gleamed as he grinned broadly. But he quickly wiped the smile away and added gravely.
"Good... Oh, right, I almost forgot the most important part."
"……?"
"If you truly face Agon's Furious Horn, feel free to sever limbs, shatter bones, inflict any wounds or humiliations. But... don't kill him. If you do, it'll be trouble for both of us. The timing isn't right now—wait for later."
What Yubik wanted was a new champion's rise, not a hero's death that would doom their alliance. Plus, without Agon's Furious Horn alive, they couldn't keep him leashed...
"If you honor that much, I'll keep my promise to summon him and fill that bag with gold. I swear it on Lord Remillion's name. Break my word, and you can tear my flesh with your own hands."
"……."
"In return... swear on Atala's name that you'll keep your promise."
Having many Atalain warriors under him, Yubik knew well how to bind them with oaths. Kadim frowned at the unexpected poison pill and contingency.
But he soon found a workaround.
"……Very well. I, Kadim, son of the wilderness, swear on War God Atala that I will keep my promise and never kill 'Atala's Great Warrior'."
'Atala's Great Warrior' was the title Atalains most commonly used for Agon's Furious Horn. Only then did Yubik fully relax, flashing a satisfied smile.
Even after downing two bottles and staying sharp, the Arena King never realized he'd been thoroughly duped—twice.
*
The arena was the center and heart of this vast wasteland city. Yet it wasn't always thronged with people.
On days when the champion appeared or major tournaments were held, crowds rivaled those of a metropolis festival. But normally, it was quieter than the main streets—only bloodthirsty spectators, gambling addicts, distant travelers, or loiterers buzzing around like flies.
But today was different.
No champion in sight, yet a considerable crowd gathered near the arena. Not just spectators or gamblers—ordinary citizens too.
"What's going on? No special holiday or anything..."
"Beats me. Did the Arena King lose his mind...?"
"Hey, don't push! Oh, that guy's cutting in line!"
The line stretched from the entrance all the way around the arena and kept growing. Third-rate promoters blew horns, clapped, and hawked relentlessly.
"Come one, come all! Free arena admission today! Free! Completely free! No ticket needed! This isn't an everyday chance!"
"Not cheap trash matches just because it's free! A once-in-a-lifetime spectacle you won't see anywhere else! Get in line before it's too late!"
The biggest reason for the massive turnout? Free entry, no tickets required.
Arena tickets started at around 100 luden even for the cheapest. A burdensome sum for day laborers scraping by. But completely free? Eyes bulged everywhere.
Of course, that wasn't the only reason.
"Hey, tell me what's up. Who's fighting and what matches today?"
"Sorry! Everything's a secret! See for yourself inside!"
Normally, they'd advertise fighters and events, but this time promoters hid everything. Citizens looked puzzled; gamblers grumbled about betting without info and left.
But the promoters' lips were locks already pried open.
When familiar faces pressed, they reluctantly leaked info.
"Ah, I really shouldn't say... but since you bought me dinner last time, just this once? Don't tell anyone else!"
"Out with it already! You're killing me..."
'This match... features none other than the 'Demon Slayer' himself.'
"……!!"
Of course, such a bombshell wouldn't stay secret.
Agon obsessed over famous mercenaries more than anywhere else. The Demon Slayer's fame had spread far and wide. Rumors ignited like wildfire. Within hours, nearly everyone in line knew.
"No way, the Demon Slayer's appearing...?"
"For real? The one who dyed the Golden Highway with demon blood...?"
"All rumors, probably. How could one man kill that many demons...?"
"Well, same for Agon's Furious Horn or the empire's holy knights..."
Excitement, skepticism, analysis...
Chatter about the Demon Slayer buzzed endlessly. Drawn by rumors and curiosity, the line eventually wrapped around the arena twice more. Promoters smirked, sensing bonus pay.
Hours later, spectators filed in.
All seats filled to 60% capacity. Heat haze rose from the packed stands, a veritable sea of humanity. For an unadvertised irregular match, it was unprecedented.
"As expected... Your leadership is unparalleled, haha! Drawing this crowd in no time..."
"Boss, the commissioner sends regrets for his absence. Instead, he offers this humble liquor..."
In the prime VIP seats with a grand view, mercenary captains rubbed hands obsequiously, aides bowed low. At the head sat the Arena King, smiling enigmatically.
Of course, this empty spectacle earned not a single luden—but it didn't matter. It wasn't about profit.
The purpose was to show as many people as possible what he intended.
Under the scorching sun on the blazing platform, the announcer began...
"Under this parched earth and blazing sun, we welcome all who come to witness the fearless gladiators' exploits! The victor etches his glorious name in the minds of thousands, while the vanquished leaves only a fleeting bloodstain on the dirt..."
Gong—!
……The gong signaling the matches' start resounded.
Iron gates opened, gladiators entered. Spectators leaned forward, eyes wide to catch every glimpse.
And gasped in collective confusion.
"……Huh?"
"……What?"
"Wait, why are they... all like that...?"
The promoter's entrance hype wasn't exaggeration or bluff.
Before countless spectators, a 'match unlike any other' was beginning.