Chapter 24
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: Shield Hero Success Story
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The entire coliseum froze solid.
A wave of shock erupted in an instant, leaving no one able to draw a proper breath.
And how could they? Just a month ago, she had been on the verge of death, judged utterly useless and casually "tossed away" as a birthday gift for a bastard child—a beastkin slave.
A little fox beastkin whom none of the heirs had deemed worthy of even a glance, forever marked as trash among trash.
But now...
Magic swirled like a vortex in the child's tiny palm—
Plop.
A crystal of light coalesced, taking solid form as a "shield" the child could wield with ease.
From empty air, a weapon had been forged.
In that impossible moment, everyone in the coliseum fell into a daze.
The servants gulped audibly, and even Wolfram—who had once dismissed her with a curt "just chuck her out"—sat frozen, eyes wide in his seat.
"That's... weapon summoning? She created a weapon with her own magic? And from an underdeveloped beastkin child, no less?"
Of course, for a beastkin born with Creation Type magic, conjuring a single weapon wasn't entirely impossible.
Creation Type was inherently specialized in "making" things.
Equipment with complex internal structures might prove difficult, but simple shapes like shields or swords could be materialized the instant an image formed in the mind—that was the hallmark of this magic affinity.
But the problem lay in time and age.
Piel had been given just one month.
And that was for a young beastkin girl whose body hadn't even fully recovered from nearly dying.
Normally, it took people anywhere from one to three years to grasp their magic affinity and manifest it externally in a "form."
Yet Piel had awakened her magic mere weeks ago and now casually conjured a shield like it was nothing.
It made no sense at all.
"Come to think of it... when she first appeared before us, she wasn't just unwell—she was missing ears and eyes altogether. How did she even fix that so perfectly?"
Seratina Argent drew a sharp breath at those words.
"Brother. That's not all."
Wolfram narrowed his eyes, sensing he'd just made a grave mistake.
An inkling that, in ignoring Lucas all this time, he might have overlooked something far greater than he'd imagined.
At that moment—
The trumpet heralding the start of the Proxy Blood Fate blared.
Seratina had already channeled magic into her eyes, scrutinizing Piel's shield in detail.
She swallowed hard and spoke.
"...That shield isn't just conjured. Look closely—it's imbued with 'traits.'"
"What?!"
Boom!
The coliseum erupted the instant the match began.
The Black Iron Knight Garin swung down like a guillotine to end it in one blow, his strike cleaving the earth.
"Kyaaak?! Garin! What are you doing?! I told you not to break her!"
Syl's scream exploded from behind, but the result was already plain to see.
The massive blade of the black knight, towering like a mountain before Piel.
It halted mere inches from the little beastkin, solid as an iron wall.
"Worry not, Lady Syl."
"Uh... huh?"
Dust clouds parted to reveal the scene.
Garin's blade had come down flat, but it hadn't pierced through.
And beneath it, the little fox beastkin knelt on one knee, shoving her shield upward with both hands, holding firm.
Garin gazed down at her and murmured lowly.
"This child won't fall to something like that."
"She... blocked it?"
Syl's face drained of color.
The mere fact that child Piel had taken the flat of a blade several times her size head-on.
But the true shock came after.
Wolfram and Seratina, observing from the stands with magic-enhanced sight, both stiffened.
Even though it was a Creation Type shield, the flow of magic across its surface was utterly different.
A faint warping of light, the impact point momentarily "expanding"—the signature reaction of infused traits.
"That shield... it really has traits imbued."
Wolfram's voice trembled.
"And considering their physical stats, for it to block so effectively... its performance rivals a divine artifact."
At first, seeing Piel conjure the shield outright, they'd assumed her magic allocation was entirely skewed toward Creation Type.
But now, elevating what should have been an ordinary shield to divine artifact level? Anyone could see her Amplification Type stats dominated.
A mediocre Amplification Type might make it slightly tougher or larger... mere "enhancement," at best.
Yet Piel hadn't stopped at creation—she'd elevated it to another realm entirely.
The realization hit, and without exchanging glances, Wolfram and Seratina both licked their lips.
If Syl took the girl, it'd just end up as fodder for her pathetic playdates, as usual.
Burying monstrous talent like that in such vain, empty pursuits was like entombing a gem in the dirt.
Better to—
Let Syl beat Lucas here and claim Piel, then immediately trigger another Proxy Blood Fate to rip her away.
A talent that tempting.
But no matter how gifted, no one imagined Piel could "win."
Because—
"Poor thing."
"Yeah. She's got luck... but the matchup's too brutal."
The genius child who had finally revealed her talents to the world now faced...
Rumble...
A presence exuding pressure that shook the ground itself.
"Guh?!"
Several maids near the stands stifled screams.
The black knight's cloak billowed slowly, heavily, as he reset his sword's angle before Piel.
"All flash, no substance. This is just child's play."
This was no mere knight, nor even an elite.
One of the most ruthless and powerful knights representing House Dark.
Acknowledged personally by Family Head Agram Argent, granted the right to don jet-black armor—"they."
The Black Iron Knights.
Over the past month, Piel had moved exactly as I instructed.
Not easy, not hard—just force-fed the one true "answer."
And she'd adapted at an unbelievable speed.
It was inevitable.
What I'd taught her wasn't current-era technique, but precisely from ten years ahead.
The exact magic manipulation used by the "Hero Piel" from the original story.
Right now, a nameless, status-less slave denied all respect.
But in ten years, a hero recognized by the world.
I remembered every bit of that Piel's combat sense, magic circuits, applications, and weakness compensations from the original.
Young or not, she was still Piel at her core.
Her dormant talents had stirred with her magic awakening, and my "cheat-level guidance" ignited their growth.
And this was the result.
Piel had succeeded in creating a shield with her own magic.
You should've seen Evelyn's face in that instant.
Mouth agape, eyes shaking—pure "worldview collapse" etched on her features.
And that shield.
Now clinging to Piel's wrist like a knuckle shield, enduring the Black Iron Knight's slash—the equipment's name was the Shield of Annihilation.
A product of intricate Creation and Amplification synergy, rivaling a true divine artifact.
Its ability was deceptively simple.
It nullifies 90% of any incoming attack, no matter the opponent.
If "small peppers pack heat," this was "small shield, insanely tough."
The power gap between Garin and Piel? Sky and earth, no contest.
The only reason she held now was that metal lump on her tiny wrist.
The impossible bulwark forged by the Shield of Annihilation.
Yet even that wall showed cracks.
Clang! Claaang!
Explosive shockwaves rang out in succession.
Piel's small frame slid back, claws scraping the floor.
"Ngh...!"
Garin growled low.
"That shield seems to dampen impacts. But defense alone won't win you this."
The plain truth.
Overwhelming weapon or not, Piel was being utterly overwhelmed by Garin.
Anyone would think so.
The outcome was decided.
What Piel was doing now resembled an insect writhing futilely beneath a colossal beast's paw.
As Garin said, pure defense couldn't claim victory.
And Piel couldn't wield any other weapon with her shield.
Or rather, she couldn't conjure one.
Piel's creatable magic structure was limited to that single shield.
Garin sneered down at her.
"Don't tell me... you thought you could win with just that shield? Then facing me is your misfortune."
"Hah... hah!"
"I'm no fool who tires himself out on his own attacks."
With those words, Garin's sword rose again with a "boom."
Heavier, deeper momentum than the first strike.
Piel's eyes no longer burned with their initial sharp resolve.
Her body locked rigid from the shocks, breaths ragged beyond the shield.
"Looks like that's it."
"Poor kid..."
"Garin! No limbs! Just knock her out!"
The moment everyone was certain, the blade cleaved the sky downward.
Krunch!!
A deafening crack like a guillotine severing life echoed through the coliseum, metal shattering.
It looked like the match had ended in one blow.
But—
The sight that followed halted every breath in the arena once more.
Dozens of gazes locked rigid.
The only one unfrozen was Lucas.
It wasn't Piel's shield that had broken.
What shattered was the Black Iron Knight Garin's jet-black sword.
"...Huh?"
The sound seemed unbelievable as it leaked from the black knight's lips.
And in the same instant, Piel's wrist gripped not her former small shield, but a majestic one etched with dragon motifs.
Magic ripples swept the coliseum, static-charging the spectators' hair.
That shield evoked her future moniker instinctively.
The Shield Hero.
An overwhelmingly imposing form that conjured the name itself.
Piel clutched the shield and snarled low.
"I won't... lose."
Her orange eyes flashed like a beast's.
"Even for my master... I'll tear that throat out myself!"