Starlit Night (2)

While Benny read through the crumpled documents with a furrowed brow, Nathan lay on the hospital bed and gazed around her new sanctuary in quiet admiration. Traces of ancient dwarven architectural style were visible everywhere. It looked like she had received help from bearded master craftsmen. Given the location, it was a perfectly reasonable choice.

Beneath the shabby, rundown house lay a residential complex carved seven stories deep underground. Circular platforms lined the walls, connected by a spiraling staircase that wound around every floor. At the very center, a massive blue tree rose from the lowest level all the way up.

“I knew you had deep pockets, but this is way beyond what I imagined. What the hell is that tree?”

“Just an ash tree. I infused it with mana and it turned that color. It’s a huge help for Eleim suffering from mana-related illnesses. It purifies the air too.”

Benny’s once-calm voice was beginning to simmer with quiet anger. Nathan decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I got sick of those vermin throwing firebombs at the building, so I just dug straight down. This way, no one can spy on medical procedures, and no one’s going to try to steal the place either. It’s perfect. The only problem is that maintenance costs are a bit tight. A jeweler? Nathan, did you really strip the place of every last piece of gold they had?”

“I don’t know what the jeweler wrote, but I didn’t take a single damn gold flake—”

“You should’ve at least broken things properly—!”

Benny whirled toward him, then froze. Her hand, which had reached out to grab his hair or cheek, hung stiffly in the air.

The boy knight she remembered was no longer the same. His hair had turned completely white, and unfamiliar scars now marked his face. She could only imagine how heavy the trials he had endured must have been.

A quiet sob escaped her. Nathan panicked as Benny began to cry. The visiting priest from the Conclave awkwardly tried to smooth things over.

“It may be nothing more than the jeweler’s one-sided claim, so you may file an appeal. I will look into it and assist as much as I can within my authority. But before that, I would appreciate it if you could make your decision quickly.”

Ezgel’s tone was neither that of a privileged authoritarian nor a mystic drunk on religious fervor. As Nathan gently patted Benny’s back while she buried her face in the bed, he searched his memory for a similar example.

Right. He sounded like the administrative officer in charge of Knight Order support back in Baylard. The kind of meticulous accountant who would grind his teeth and take care of everything when you submitted bills for broken equipment and armor repairs.

“Will you accept Nathan Maia as your property, even at this cost?”

So it wasn’t finalized yet. Compared to when he had met the administrator in Baylard, the amount this time wasn’t exactly honorable. Nathan shrank back a little and glanced at Benny.

Benny met the eyes of Nathan, who lay bundled in patient clothes and blankets on the bed. He looked deeply worried about something—just like when he had first stepped into the Graveyard House.

“If I say I won’t accept you, are you worried I’ll even take away your tomato juice?”

“Something like that. And now I’m worried about that too.”

Nathan quickly sucked down the rest of the red juice through the straw and poured what remained straight into his mouth. He wasn’t trying to tease her. He simply didn’t want to lose that flavor. In the punitive arena, not even fiber-rich processed drinks were available—let alone anything resembling a blade of grass.

Irritated, Benny pursed her lips and scrunched her face.

“Yes. I accept. If I wasn’t going to, I would’ve already smashed your skull with a hammer and thrown you out.”

“Then everything is settled. I will organize the related documents and hand them over. Congratulations on becoming a legitimate resident of the Heavens, Nathan Maia. You didn’t come here by choice, but at least you now have the official status of a gladiator for Galarhorn. That should make things much better than before.”

A gladiator, huh.

When he had first been dragged to the Heavens, Santra had said he would become her exclusive fighter. A somewhat bitter thought crossed his mind. He had run away because he didn’t want to be forced to fight, yet here he was after taking such a long detour.

“So in the end, I have to fight in the arena again?”

“No, you won’t. I will never send you out to a gladiator fight. I can’t risk your life over something as trivial as territorial disputes.”

Benny gripped Nathan’s cheek firmly as she spoke. He blinked.

“You hire me but won’t send me out? Is that allowed?”

“That is for the owner to decide. There are quite a few nobles who increase their number of interspecies lovers through such loopholes. Now then.”

Ezgel grunted as he lifted a document box the size of a human torso off the table. His expression grew noticeably lighter.

“Now that the numbers are out of the way, shall we talk about something more human? Do you have any questions?”

Human matters, he says. You’re not even human. Nathan stared suspiciously at the priest’s long ears, then reached for another tomato juice pack while lying down—only to get the back of his hand slapped.

Aspen, standing by the head of the bed, spoke in a stern voice.

“No.”

“Why not.”

“If you chug it all at once you’ll get sick. You need a medical checkup, so drink in moderation.”

Instead of physical pain from the slap, Nathan felt a mental sting. He rubbed the back of his hand timidly.

“What was that lightning that tried to strike us? Why did Galarhorn’s support suddenly get cut off, and why was I left isolated?”

“Are you familiar with gladiator fights?”

“I know, but pretend I don’t and explain. It’s been four years, so my memory—”

Aspen gave a sharp tug on the hair at Nathan’s temple. He quickly corrected himself.

“My memory is a little fuzzy.”

“Good. You shouldn’t speak rudely to someone who’s helping you.”

“From his perspective, it’s understandable to be wary of people like me. In fact, one of my superiors visited Nathan this morning and suggested he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠commit suicide by poison.”

Aspen’s voice grew icy.

“Who was it?”

“I will not tell you. It would be better for all of you if I remained silent rather than risk you getting hurt by trying to act against someone of that rank.”

Ezgel averted his gaze slightly and muttered.

“Which is why I have never once uttered the name Appius.”

He turned back to the dumbfounded Nathan.

“A gladiator fight is a form of trial by combat with absolute binding power. When any legal entity—individual, family, or organization—fails to reach a significant legal resolution with another party, it is invoked. To prevent conflicts from escalating, each side sends one representative to fight. The loser must unconditionally accept the outcome. That is the rule.”

The priest added after his quick explanation,

“If words don’t work, you hire someone strong and have them duke it out.”

“…That summary makes it easy to understand, but it sounds incredibly childish.”

Aspen squeezed Nathan’s shoulder until he gave the proper response.

“It sounds incredibly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠childish.”

“Objectively speaking, it’s not something fully grown adults should be doing.”

Ezgel gave a faint smile.

“There is a reason why the lady here, Whitaker, has not registered for gladiator fights until now. She believes disputes should be resolved through logic and rules, not by spilling someone’s blood.”

“But she ended up doing it anyway. And it was because of me.”

It had been an attempt to secure the immunity that came with becoming a gladiator. In the end, killing Morbi had rendered it meaningless.

“It wasn’t something we could avoid forever. If a major corporation doesn’t participate in gladiator fights, it gets pushed to the back ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the priority list in most procedures. That means we’re constantly vulnerable to being robbed in broad daylight.”

Ignoring Aspen’s glare, Benny opened another tomato juice pack and placed it in Nathan’s hand. It was a clear message not to dwell on useless thoughts. Nathan scratched his head.

“Am I the only one who thinks the gladiator fight system is unreasonable? Are there really no people who participate and then refuse to accept the result…? I said ‘yo,’ Aspen. Stop pinching me. And I’m drinking this juice no matter what.”

“Whether there are those who refuse to accept the result. That is an excellent question. Since we’ve come this far, I can also answer your question about the lightning strike you nearly witnessed.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow. Then he raised it even higher at Ezgel’s next words.

“Those who do not accept the outcome of a gladiator fight are struck by lightning and die.”

“Huh?”

The idea that a natural disaster functioned as a social constraint made Nathan blink as if he had heard a bad joke.

“For real?”

“I know it’s hard to believe. But didn’t you witness the descent of the Heavenly God with your own eyes?”

Yet Ezgel seemed completely serious. Nathan was stunned.

“Aspen, are you insane? Then you shouldn’t have come looking for me—”

“I had to make sure you were okay. I couldn’t stand it. And I stayed by your side because I was afraid you might be in danger. You’ve made enemies everywhere. I had to consider the possibility of assassins coming after you.”

Having effectively silenced Nathan, Aspen turned to Benny, who was once again looking over the ledger, and chuckled.

“But since I couldn’t get close, I couldn’t stop you from causing trouble. It was nerve-wracking just watching.”

“I’m going to have to redraw the budget. The girl with the tablet arms started lighting a charcoal brazier to melt her own hands. Soon she began to suffocate…”

“Our beloved representative seems to have quite a sharp tongue tonight.”

Nathan quickly changed the subject.

“If you lose a gladiator fight and refuse to accept it, you get struck by lightning? Can just anyone do that? It sounds way too dangerous.”

“Not just anyone can initiate a gladiator fight. Otherwise the entire Heavens would be a place where no one could live without being burned by lightning. Two conditions are required for a gladiator fight to take place. Approval from the Conclave’s deliberation, and the consent of the owner of the Great Arena, the largest arena in the Heavens. In other words, the Grand Arena Owner serves both as the promoter of the Heavens’ most popular spectacle and as a partial holder of the role of Chief Justice. That is why so many coveted the position of the previous Grand Arena Owner, Santra.”

“Promoter and judge don’t exactly sound like words that go together. Why on earth did such a bizarre system come about?”

“The nations of the Lower World are open. If you want to avoid conflict, you can flee across borders, mountains, or seas. But not in the Heavens. Unless you’re willing to risk falling to your death, there are limited places to run. In ancient times, the Eleim were on the verge of mutual destruction from killing one another. So the Heavenly God firmly established rules. That was when the first arena in the Heavens was created, and its owner became the Grand Arena Owner.”

“I understand. Instead of everyone spilling blood together, just one representative from each side dies, and the rest follow the result?”

“The logic ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was that it was better for two gladiators to die on behalf of honor than for hundreds to die in a war between families.”

Nathan debated whether to speak. Couldn’t they just discuss and negotiate with words, then strike with lightning if someone broke the agreement? Wouldn’t that eliminate the need for gladiators to die? But the other party was a priest, and he had no idea how he would respond to such a pointed remark. Nathan swallowed his sigh.

I don’t know. Maybe the god is a lunatic who just wants to watch fights.

Come to think of it, there was no reason that explanation couldn’t be true. The only god Nathan had ever met in person was the owner of the Great Arena.

“So the reason Aspen nearly got struck by lightning was because of the result of a gladiator fight?”

“Correct. The problem began when you killed a member of the royal family after becoming a gladiator. Opinions were divided. Since the act was committed before being entered into the gladiator registry, should it be included in the immunity? Or should it be considered an act committed after the trial had already ended and thus warrant increased punishment? A gladiator match was held to resolve that dispute.”

“The way the law is applied sounds pretty sloppy.”

“There are two problems. First, there is a god above our heads. One who holds the undeniable authority of lightning in his hands. Therefore, the ancient rules set by the Heavenly God—which have now become crude—take precedence over any law. It is an unfavorable environment for building a precise system. Unlike you people from the Lower World.”

The subtle envy in the words unlike you people from the Lower World left Nathan slightly bewildered. Aside from Benny, he had never met an elf who spoke like this.

“And second. The high nobles of the Heavens have already exploited both scenarios as excuses. They reduced their own sentences using the first scenario and increased the sentences of lower beings who challenged their families using the second. In such cases, precedent cannot be used to judge either.”

“What the hell…”

“I have no defense if you call it pathetic. Even if you say it reeks of rot, I must accept it as a compliment rather than an insult. At least it means there is still something that can be washed away. If the core of communal rules is fairness, then the laws of the Heavens died long ago. I am merely an errand boy acting on behalf of a corpse.”

Nathan was gradually growing fond of this world-weary elf.

“Hang in there. You’re the smartest elf I’ve ever met.”

“Are you saying that for me to hear?”

“Correction. Second smartest.”

Nathan closed his eyes and braced himself for the price of his mistake. Both the pride-wounded Benny and Aspen, who had been spoken to informally, began to pinch and pull at him.

“If informal speech is more comfortable, please allow it. Due to my profession, I have experienced all sorts of things in life. Being spoken down to upon first meeting doesn’t even rank among them.”

Whether they listened or not, Ezgel continued.

“The story keeps drifting. In any case, Benny—or rather, her public name is Somnus. Galarhorn, Somnus’s corporation, lost the gladiator match. During that process, Somnus herself nearly fell victim to assassination.”

In the end, Galarhorn was forbidden from making contact through any channel. Even conveying that fact to Nathan had been a violation of the rules. The same applied to everyone affiliated with Galarhorn.

“Santra’s personal gladiator stepped forward in that trial. But he was killed by the Sword Master of the Sword Star Sect. Thanks to that, many gladiators of Hedonic origin left. They called them bastards gnawing away at Santra’s legacy because of Sapiens. That made it even harder to help you through indirect appeals.”

“As someone with relatively more freedom of movement, I tried to find ways to help, but all I could manage was forming a fund to send substandard weapons or infiltrating unaffiliated fugitives like Akweba Kakchlo to carry out operations. It was fortunate enough that we found even those small gaps while avoiding the surveillance of hostile forces.”

“You were the one who sent Akweba?”

Nathan’s mouth fell open. In the power structure he had pictured in his head until now, the Conclave had always been on the side of the enemy. He had heard the Conclave was the enemy of Hedonic. That they were a force denying the order of the Heavenly God. He had also heard that the Conclave hated Benny. That they wanted to put a leash on the corporations of the Heavens.

“The reason we go this far is—”

“…You’re a Hedonic too? A priest who serves the Heavenly God?”