Here Comes Alben! (4)
“I, Yamada Ryo, hereby declare my surrender!!”
Yamada's voice filled the arena. The endless clash of blades finally ended with this crisp declaration of defeat, drawing every eye in the crowd.
Silence echoed through the Colosseum for a moment.
Clap—
A single sharp smack of palms rang out, short and intense.
Clap clap—
Before it faded, more followed.
Clap clap clap—!
As the rhythm swelled like waves...
——!!!!!!
A roar of awe-shattering cheers erupted, drowning the quiet.
“Th-this...! Wh-what a...! B-beautiful duel...!! This announcer is utterly convinced!!”
The announcer's tear-choked voice boomed across the arena via amplification magic.
“Baldojang! Baldojang! Baldojang! Baldojang!”
The formless cheers began to shape into my name.
“Awesome, Yamada!!”
Three simple syllables crystallized the sound, praising even an honorable defeat amid the din.
The chat, frozen for a split second, exploded like a volcano.
I stole glances at the silent cheers now and then, taking slow steps forward.
Ah, caught.
A bit embarrassed, I slid the chat window down. My view felt a tad empty now, but whatever.
Because right here were the crowds chanting my name, their endless applause, and...
Clap clap clap—
——!
Like blessing a king's procession, countless gladiators clapping and whistling.
“...”
Leaving them behind...
“...”
“Gladiators?”
Countless?
Panicking, I scanned around. The gladiators stood in neat ranks—numbers unchanged since the prelims began. My mind reeled.
Why? How? No way...
“They've been watching me this whole time...?”
Skipping their own fights?
“Haha...”
Caught off guard, I stepped back instinctively. That's when the gladiators swarmed around me.
“Baldojang-sensei! Won't you duel with me!?”
“Accept my challenge, Baldojang-gong!!”
“This humble one is Ishida Ken from Hanazawa! Please take me as your disciple!!”
“Heuuung... Eyes...”
'What's with the last one, jeez.'
Muscles everywhere my eyes turned. Muscles muscles. Creepily ripped muscles muscles muscles. Plus the testosterone-soaked sweat stench.
For a beastkin with a sensitive nose, this was pure hell.
“Ugh...!”
I pinched my nose reflexively and backed up. But my heel hit a wall—no escape.
“You ten...!”
As I reached for my sword in desperation, a red-eyed woman appeared through the muscle wall.
Her black-and-red dobok was striking at first glance. Raven-black hair cascading down, features like a sculpture—too perfect for words like nation-toppling beauty to suffice.
'Was there a woman like that...?'
The thought flashed, but instinct screamed.
Yes, there was.
The first eyes I'd met entering the arena.
Yet she'd slipped my senses until now.
Only one thing could do that, as far as I knew.
A 'Star.'
One born human, transcending limits to touch the heavens. A demigod stepping into transcendent realms.
One of those radiant, terrifying beings had arrived here.
Ting—!
I snapped my senses taut, flicking my nose.
Pulling back the senses drunk on cheers.
Stars don't appear without reason. Their every step could spark massive events for mortals.
But she had appeared anyway.
'Something's about to happen.'
Right on cue, red stars descended on every gladiator but me.
They landed lightly on noses, glowing.
As eyes shifted to them—
Snap—
“...!”
Her finger flicked.
The red stars flashed white in unison.
Soon, massive explosions engulfed the arena.
——!!!
“Kuh...!”
Smoke blinded me; the blast rattled my eardrums into ringing.
Acidic haze shrouded me, scrambling my honed senses.
Not ordinary smoke, apparently.
“Hoo...”
Even closing my eyes and steadying my breath felt like flailing underwater—no relief.
Battō
Swiftness
Fine, no fighting it.
I let the currents carry me, accepting the surging sensations one by one.
Once my body synced with the flow...
I drew my sword from its scabbard.
Ting—
“...Hoo. Even in this, you show such swordsmanship.”
“...”
My blade traced a clean arc, halted before her throat—blocked by a single finger.
'One finger...!'
“But your body can't keep up with your skill. Whatever your circumstances, it's a pity.”
She traced the blade with her finger, stepping closer.
“...What's your goal.”
“A welcome, child.”
“What?”
“When a guest arrives, mustn't someone greet them? None stirred, so I came to fulfill that duty. And to tidy up a bit.”
“Tidy up?”
“There.”
Her gaze pointed to the fallen gladiators.
“You are a precious guest, child. Such a guest deserves treatment befitting their station.”
“...”
I eyed her suspiciously. Then, an unexpected name slipped from her lips.
“Christina Edelstein.”
“...!”
“Seems El used you quite a bit, hmm?”
“...Who the hell are you.”
“Just a pitiable woman, as you see.”
“Cut the crap...!”
Ting—
A clear crack split the hovering blade.
“...!”
“A rather crude weapon. At least use a good one, no?”
She dangled the broken blade between her fingers, continuing.
“Much to ask, much to say, I wager. But now's not the time.”
“...Then when is.”
She didn't answer, turning and stepping into the smoke.
“Come to the eastern edge, child. I'll await you there, with all prepared.”
With that, her form vanished into the haze.
Quest: 'Alben Founding Anniversary Gladiator Tournament Preliminaries' cleared.
*
“...So that's what happened to the sword?”
“Yeah.”
I sheathed the half-blade-less sword, continuing.
“Who was she, you think.”
“Looking into it... Doesn't seem to be any NPC like that in Libion. I'll dig more.”
With that, Chaerin dove back into the Libion wiki.
Sunset time—we sat in a Colosseum-area eatery. The medieval-wild yet warmly lit interior set a romantic vibe. Log-half chairs, rough-hewn tables amplified it. Massive meat platters and crude mugs sealed the medieval fantasy mood.
Pure romance!
“Hm~ hm~”
Feeling my tension rise as I sliced meat, Chaerin spoke.
“Nada... An NPC that distinctive should've been listed... Maybe a hidden-route exclusive?”
“Heh heh heh.”
(Yeah...)
“...Talk after eating.”
“Mhm.”
I'd given Chaerin a toned-down version of my chat with the woman. No way I'd spill goddess stuff.
Worried if she'd seen the stream, turns out broadcast cut right at that moment. So Chaerin—and viewers—had no clue what went down.
Lucky me.
I swallowed a sigh, popping sliced meat in. Bland and chewy—not tasty, but ambiance, right? Chewed and gulpeded.
“Anyway, I'll keep hunting for that woman. No guarantees, though.”
“Sure.”
“Oh, right. Other groups' prelims are tomorrow, 9 AM. Gonna watch?”
“Huh?”
Other groups? There were more?
My blank look made her sigh.
“Prelims are split into three groups. Top 30 overall go to finals. Your group ended up just you, somehow.”
“Hm... Yeah, I'll go.”
Good to scout who'd I'd face in finals.
“See you at the Colosseum tomorrow 9 AM then, Baldojang. Good work today.”
“Yeah.”
Her form whitened and vanished post-chat.
I watched till the end, shoved the last bite in, and logged out of Libion.
Vision blacked seconds later; futuristic hiss as capsule opened, revealing the room. 7 PM, sun setting nicely.
Stretching out, my chest ID tag glinted in the dusk.
'Mina probably headed home...'
Main bedroom door: tidy bed inside. Post-it atop: Thanks, sis! With a cute bunny doodle in the corner. Couldn't help smiling.
'I don't even tidy up.'
Flopped on the perfectly made sheets; eyelids dropped like clockwork. Early rise tomorrow anyway—drifted off.
The silently buzzing phone and the internet posts flooding in—she remained blissfully unaware in her dreams.