No Second Mercy
He didn't even have the chance to scream properly before the blow struck him in a moment of utter unconsciousness, sending him tumbling forward.
Crack!
At the same instant, Adel snapped the arm of the challenger beside him.
"Aaaargh!!!"
Only after the second scream echoed did the challengers finally grasp the situation, fumbling desperately for their weapons.
But it was too late.
Ignoring the wail of the man with the broken arm, Adel shoved him with all his might, toppling him into the others. He then pinned the fallen challenger's shoulder with his foot and thrust his sword down.
Stab!
The blade sank into the shoulder, followed by crack! Snap!
The challenger next to him had his ribs shattered.
"Ugh... uuurgh..."
"Kuh... hack..."
It all happened in the blink of an eye. Groans rose from here and there.
"You bastard... without a word. Attacking fellow challengers!!"
"Weren't you planning the same? You got cocky relying on your numbers, standing around all relaxed. That's why you're in this mess."
"Attacking people who couldn't even think straight because of the alcohol spell array!! That's cheating!!"
"Cheating?"
Adel approached the broken-armed challenger slowly at his shout.
"H-heek?!"
The man flinched involuntarily as Adel drew near.
"Listen up, sunbae. I'm giving you a special lesson here, so be grateful."
"...What?"
"Thinking the Nest training is just playtime is a big mistake. The Nest isn't a playground for captains' kids—it's where hunters are forged."
Grip.
"You targeted me. If you're hunting, then hunt. But don't expect me to treat it like a game."
Adel grabbed his collar and pulled his face close.
"Hunting means staking your life."
He gazed down at the nine fallen men.
"Don't forget. There's no second mercy."
With that, he gathered their weapons and headed into the dungeon.
"..."
"..."
The trainees in the stands, including the instructors, were left dumbfounded by the lightning-fast events.
"Five minutes...? Insane."
Haron stared at the time posted at the arena entrance. It was the shortest elimination time in Tomb Tournament history.
Thud thud thud.
Adel charged into the cave without hesitation. Perhaps because he'd only wielded a wooden sword for so long, after dropping nine upperclassmen, he felt a slight thrill and decided it was time to cool it down.
'Don't get cocky. This is where it really starts.'
Deeper into the cave, he suddenly stopped before a dead end.
Clatter!
He dumped the gear he'd taken from the upperclassmen right there.
'The hidden route in these hills is two more turns from here. But going straight to the unknown passage would make the instructors suspicious.'
Adel wanted to blind them for a moment. The instructors monitored the interior via magic orbs created by a shaman's special light spell, Owl's Eye.
'Owl's Eye is perfect for peering into dark dungeons, but its effect weakens in bright light.'
Adel pulled out a glowstone he'd prepared with Heila's help.
"What the hell is he doing now?"
The instructors watching via the magic orb grew uneasy as Adel, who had dispatched nine upperclassmen in seconds, pulled out something else.
"Instructor Myurn. The trainees in the stands can see everything in the Tomb Tournament right now. Is that okay?"
"He hasn't broken any rules. No use of God's Blessing, and there's no rule against attacking competitors in the Tomb Tournament."
"But still..."
The instructors grumbled reluctantly. After all, everyone in the tournament was from the same tribe.
"It's a competition, but his attacks are too ruthless."
"Agreed. As Hien's son, he should look after his tribesmen more."
"We need to summon Adel after this and punish him for this incident."
They raised their voices. But Myurn, staring at the magic orb, only sneered coldly at their words.
"Punish? If anyone's getting punished, it's those nine upperclassmen who lost to a lowerclassman."
"...Pardon?"
"Didn't you hear what he said? Since when did the Nest sort training by family or status? The Tomb Tournament measures a year's training results—not some festival handing out artifacts."
The instructors fell silent at Myurn's words.
"Do you not know why there's no rule against attacking competitors? Not all tribal hunters just hunt monsters."
"But..."
"Lately, no one even gets hurt in the Tomb Tournament, win or lose. If you think that's because trainees are so skilled, quit your instructor post right now."
Unlike their worry, Myurn eyed Adel's actions with anticipation.
"True... things have gotten soft. Back in the day, the winner was the one who walked out."
The eldest instructor, Yan, nodded in agreement with Myurn.
"Especially Hien's Tomb Tournament is still legendary. The trainees said they feared him more than the monsters."
"H-ha..."
The younger instructors laughed awkwardly at Yan's words.
"You look skeptical. Probably thinking trainees went easy on Hien because of his background, eh? Myurn."
"You wouldn't get it. In this era of pandering to winners."
Myurn slowly lifted his shirt. A long sword scar marred his chest. Faded with time, it was unmistakably from a sharp blade.
"From the Tomb Tournament against Hien. You hunters know: a little later on treatment, and I'd be dead."
"No way..."
"Don't forget, even teaching the young ones from the rear lines—you can't lose that frontline edge. Hunting isn't just you hunting prey."
Myurn gazed at the magic orb.
"You can become the prey too. These trainees might take a lot from this tournament."
He spoke with expectant eyes.
"...Huh?"
But the moment he looked at the orb, he couldn't help but panic.
"Where'd he go?"
Adel had vanished. The orb pursuing him was filled with pure white light.
Adel pulled a sword from the upperclassmen's loot and stabbed it deep into the ground in a circle.
Sizzle...
He placed the glowstone inside, and its light reflected off the blade, illuminating the surroundings brightly.
'Perfect.'
That was why he'd taken their weapons—not for fighting monsters, but for this.
The glowstone's light wouldn't last long, but it didn't matter. In that blinding moment, Owl's Eye wouldn't function, buying him just enough time to evade the instructors' gaze.
Clink.
Adel lifted a rock at the inner corner. Beneath it was a small hole big enough for a child.
'Jackpot.'
Without hesitation, he squeezed into the hole. Possible only with his 13-year-old frame. That was why he'd seized this chance.
Thud.
The hole was deeper than expected. He slid down for a while before landing underground, where a massive pond-like pool lay before him.
Could that be... the Waves of Spirit Energy?
"No. That's in the great plains. This is different. It looks like a Spirit Spring that fills mana, but it's more like spirit dregs. Poisonous."
Poisonous...? Fascinating. It smells like spirit energy, but if it's toxic, that means it's purifying something.
"Exactly."
Adel stared at the pitch-black pool.
'This is where it gets important.'
He began searching, selecting tough grasses growing incongruously around the pool amid the cave's underbelly.
"These hills were a sage's hideout before the orcs settled. After he died, orcs took the empty spot."
Like dragons choosing special lairs, some mages used abandoned dungeons or labyrinths as bases.
A sage...? Who'd attempt something so absurd? Splitting bloodlines... Humans are born with just one vessel.
"Sages are eccentric mages. They think their research is groundbreaking, but most waste time."
They upended established magic systems, retreating from the world—hence "sages." But one in a thousand, or ten thousand, might yield brilliance.
"One such eccentric had this idea. Why must mages be forsaken by God's Blessing? And he found a way, leaving one legacy."
Forsaken...? Hmph. Mages' greed, I'd say. Fine, who pulled off this impossible feat?
"Someone you know."
...Me?
"Gerald. Founder of the Ivory Tower, continent's greatest magic society."
Adel said calmly.
Ge-Gerald? Oh, hell no. Impossible!! You don't mean...?!
"Yeah. Exactly."
Kalderet's shock was understandable.
That bastard was my contractor!
Adel gave a wry smile at his reaction. An ancient god's contractor being a mage would be the most shocking revelation since his birth.
That damn fool tricked me. How'd he fool me so completely?
"Entirely possible. His note said the experiment succeeded, but lasted too briefly."
True enough... He contracted me in old age. Just three years.
Kalderet nodded.
"Ivory Tower records had his will by chance. That's how I found his hidden lair."
He found a way to expand the vessel?
"Yes. He left one potion. Drink it, and your bloodline expands, creating a second vessel."
Adel scanned the walls for something amid the faint-glowing moss, scraping it off with his hands.
Interesting. In your past life, who used it? Game-changer.
"Me."
You and Gerald—greedy humans.
"Not really. In my past life, I contracted you but didn't want magic."
Then? What'd you do with Gerald's potion?
"..."
Silently, Adel sprinkled the gathered moss into the poisonous pool.
Sizzle!
Surprisingly, the moss clumped and hardened, forming a long bridge across the pool.
"I used it. But I didn't drink it."
Adel gave an enigmatic answer, then crossed the solid moss bridge.
"You'll see."
He passed the pool, entered a narrow passage, and stepped into Gerald's hidden lair.