“…What are you talking about?”
The reaction is quite bland.
I managed to get the guy who hadn’t said a word during the entire tournament to speak, but his response was still weak.
Seeing him pretending not to know right away, I guess he won’t fall for the Halphas Cult’s greetings. Or does he really not know? Should I clash weapons to find out?
I deliberately elongated the shovel and took a relaxed stance.
Surely, it looks like I have no intention to attack.
If Lewis and Theo tried to take the initiative and attack, I was deliberately planning to let them have the first strike.
My goal was to figure out that guy’s identity.
“…”
“…”
“What’s up, why aren’t you fighting?”
“That’s, you see, a fight between masters.”
“Masters?”
“It’s a stage where they sense each other’s power just through their presence. There’s no need for either side to rush.”
“Aha, so that’s why they’re just standing there?”
It’s so quiet that I can hear the surrounding voices very clearly.
When I stole a glance, an old man with a goatee was making an absurd explanation that sounded like something out of a martial arts story, and I almost burst into laughter, but I held it in since we were in a fight.
By the way, is he not planning to take the initiative?
“Hey. Did you say you came from the south?”
“…”
“I don’t understand why someone with your skills is acting as a mercenary. Someone like you should be getting a knightly title somewhere.”
“I don’t intend to do anyone’s dirty work.”
“Are you calling someone doing their dirty work right now?”
“When did I ever say that…”
“Shut up. Rude jerk!”
I am a nuisance. I am a nuisance. I am a nuisance. I am a nuisance. I am a nuisance. I am a nuisance.
“Even though you’re suspicious, being rude too? You must have a purpose for joining this tournament. I hope I can find out what it is.”
“I really don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”
“Think about it in your heart. Rude jerk.”
“I don’t even know if you came here to fight or to argue…”
“Shut up.”
“…”
“Crafting.”
The floor of the martial arts arena rises.
Stork jumps up in disbelief, narrowly avoiding the pillars that have shot up from the ground. It wasn’t an attack I aimed to hit from the start, but seeing him dodge easily was a bit disappointing.
I thought I’d shaken his mental state, but he isn’t falling for it easily.
Should I push a bit more?
“Harpas bastard…”
“…What?”
“Harpas fucking crow bastard. When I see that bastard, I’ll pluck all its feathers, coat it in breadcrumbs, and fry it up. It should make a delicious fry since it’s a bird too.”
His expression flickered slightly at my sudden Harpas insult.
My bait seems quite appetizing. I can’t tell if he’s just flustered or if it hit a nerve.
Well, let’s keep going.
“…You’re crazy.”
“Crazy? Crafting. I, crafting. Crazy, crafting. Guy? Crafting.”
He’s dodging like a cat. I clicked my tongue watching Stork nimbly avoid the poorly placed pillars.
Not attacking?
“If I attack first, am I going to die or something? Crafting.”
At this rate, the martial arts arena will be filled with pillars first. I sat back and leisurely observed the sluggish flow of the battle while poking Rue.
[Contractor, have you ever done any thug work?]
What nonsense.
Just make sure the lie detector is on.
“Just a mouth without action.”
“Say ‘Harpas bastard’ again, bastard.”
“Ha. Why are you doing this to me? We’ve clearly never met.”
“Can’t you talk?”
“I don’t know what benefit you’re getting from this.”
“If you don’t know, don’t act like a coward, just talk already.”
“…Ha.”
Look at that face getting tense. I’ve been waiting to see that tortured expression.
“Did I ask an overly difficult favor? It shouldn’t be that hard to talk trash about the Harpas Cult, the continent’s enemy.”
At my comment, he replied with a face full of irritation.
Having finished my ideology test, I delivered my final blow.
“Stork, stork. Did you learn to assassinate from those crow bastards?”
“…How do you know that?”
At the mention of the stork, Stork’s expression visibly distorted.
Stork.
In translation, it means stork.
Another bird symbolizing the Harpas, which takes the shape of a crow.
And it’s the name they use to call the Harpas Cult’s executor.
As I continued to toy with him, an undeniable truth came to mind.
“…You’ve been planning this from the start, haven’t you? I heard the strange guy was clinging to the vile saint, but to think you know our cult’s internal secrets. Your threat level just went up a notch.”
“Look who’s posturing now.”
Look at those veins bulging on his hands.
It’s clear as day that he’s thinking ‘how can I mess this guy up?’ But he’s trying so hard to keep his eyes cold, which is quite impressive.
I guess he didn’t just sit on the seat of the cult’s executor.
In the game, I didn’t see what he looked like since he was in armor, but it seemed to be roughly like that when stripped down. I guess there’s a crow pattern on his back too?
“Hey. If you surrender peacefully, you won’t have to meet a dreadful end—”
“Shut up.”
“No way.”
“…Since the mission has failed, I’ll just have to bring your head back.”
“You? Me?”
I deliberately made a face like I was annoyed and laughed at him.
“Do you really trust the rabid dog? The rabid dog is far away. I have plenty of time to chop off your head. Your physical abilities aren’t that outstanding either.”
Along with those words, Stork stomped the ground.
Almost simultaneously, a sharp sound of wind rushed toward my neck. The time I had was fleeting. I blocked the blade coming at me with my shovel.
“It’s pretty heavy, you know.”
My hand felt like it was going to tear apart.
“Crafting. Crafting. Crafting. Crafting.”
A pointed pillar arose diagonally, dividing the space between me and Stork.
Once again, we were at a distance. I chose not to attack recklessly and waited for his next move. But Stork also seemed cautious of my counterattack, stopping and glaring at me as if he wanted to kill me.
He’s not planning to fall for it easily, huh?
“Blocking that with a shovel is impressive.”
“You got chatty because you’re scared, huh? Stork.”
“…”
Look at him drawing aura just from saying a word. I gazed at the crimson energy emanating from his sword and used magic.
“Sprinkler.”
The floor became drenched in a sticky liquid. I spread the slime as wide as I could. No matter how quick his movements are, he couldn’t completely avoid the slime spread across the entire martial arts arena.
Still tied up in the duel, or maybe he figures he can’t run away now, he had no choice but to get splashed with the slime.
I looked at Stork shaking off the slime with a disgusted expression and took out a match from my pocket.
“This is…”
“Thanks to you guys, I wasn’t able to have a campfire yesterday.”
Hisss—
A tiny flame emerged on that hot sunny morning.
“Crazy bastard—”
“I heard cremation is the trend these days at funerals.”
I dropped the match to the ground.
Whoa, it burns well!
“The arena is burning up! Creating oil with magic, what a unique spell!”
Ah, I missed the announcer’s commentary since I was too busy concentrating. I waved my hands casually at the audience and looked back at Stork, now trapped in flames. It was about time to gauge my escape route.
“Rue, get ready.”
[Finally, is it my turn to step in?—]
I held Rue, who was hanging at my waist, up high. This should be enough. I threw Rue into the sky.
“Whoa?! She’s throwing the magic book into the sky! What kind of magic will she show us?!”
Unfortunately, it’s not that glamorous magic. I immediately gripped the shovel tightly and dove into the dwindling flames.
Just as I predicted, aside from the burn marks on his clothes and his skin being singed, Stork was largely intact. It’s evident he must’ve blocked it with his aura. I smirked at the now bedraggled Stork.
“Now you really seem like a crow’s subordinate.”
“You…”
Just a bit more, and I thought he might completely lose his rationality. But from my perspective, having a bit of rationality is advantageous.
Because—
“Hey, why do you think I set the fire?”
“…”
He’s not even answering me now. I dodged a heavy sword slash that came my way, twisting my body.
Predicting the trajectory of the sword strike based on his sluggish arm movements isn’t too difficult.
How many of his strikes did I dodge?
I pointed my finger skyward and said.
“The answer is up in the sky.”
“Bullshit—”
Unable to shake off his anxiety, he lost his composure as his eyes naturally looked up.
In that moment, Rue’s eyes twinkled as she fell from the sky. The bright sun masked the twinkle, but the effect was still very much alive.
[The mental barrier is incredibly thick, huh?]
“Is he completely immune?”
[Nothing is a problem in front of me!]
Maybe there’s no sign of him getting brainwashed.
“What… are you… doing?”
Still, it’s not completely ineffective.
His body, which had been just fine a moment ago, staggered.
That was the effect of the brainwashing beam Rue used diligently during her days being chased by cats.
As expected, it seems impossible to fully affect an executor. He only swayed a bit, but that was enough.
“Crafting.”
A three-pronged pillar aimed at his groin shot up simultaneously as I put all my magic into increasing the strength of the brainwashing beam.
“Ugh…!”
“What, what… Sir Quartz! This is too much! This isn’t just a duel, is it?!”
What is he even saying?
The announcer’s confused voice seeped into my ears.
With a nonchalant face, I pointed at the crow pattern visible between Stork’s burned clothes and shouted.
“This guy is part of the assassin from yesterday!”
“What? Is that really true?”
“It’s true! There’s a crow pattern on his back!”
“I was cheering for that guy yesterday…”
The audience turned chaotic at my shout.
It was only natural since some people among the audience knew about the previous disaster. I cast a sideways glance at Karina, who was looking at me with worry, then turned my gaze back to Stork.
“What? That guy is an assassin?”
“I felt something was off…”
“He was a good guy yesterday, right?!”
“How could I know he was going to be an assassin?!”
“…Then, I guess there’s no choice now!”
Looks like the sharp-eyed guy is also a good speaker. I quickly glanced at the now alert announcer and shifted my gaze back to Stork.
Having successfully undergone neutering, he sat down bleeding from his groin.
No matter how tough he was trained, I doubt he has ever experienced his groin exploding. This is indeed efficient.
I approached him without hesitation and brought Rue close to him. There was no way he would remain fine after taking the brainwashing beam from right up close.
Confirming that the light had completely faded from his eyes, I gave Rue my final command.
“Rue, engrave what I say into that guy’s mind.”
It’s a pity I can’t ask too many questions due to the binding spell.
[Got it.]
Ah, and I need to deliver the last present too.
I took out an item I had received from Headmaster Merlin and placed it in his arms.
“You—”
—————
“Is the mission a failure?”
In a dark alley.
The Stork, who barely escaped the arena, gritted his teeth due to the excruciating pain coming from his groin while pulling a brooch from his pocket.
An artifact that could be used when completing missions or when they fail.
Without hesitation, he activated the artifact.
In normal circumstances, he would’ve alerted himself and used it carefully, but all he could think was that he needed to return.
I have to go back. I have to go back. I have to go back. I have to go back. I have to go back. I have to go back. I have to go back. I have to go back. I have to go back.
He closed his eyes.
He wished more fervently than ever to be where he longed to return.
In response to his wish, the artifact vibrated and began to release rainbow-colored magic.
When he opened his eyes again, the place he so desperately wanted to return to was right before him.
Having been taken over by the loathsome cult’s enemies.
‘…What is this?’
Hatred boiled within him.
He picked up his sword, engulfed in a wave of anger more intense than ever.
“Damn those Kalon bastards…!”
“…Did you come?”
“Excuse me? What happened…”
“Why are you suddenly…”
“Ahhh!”
His target was the loathsome Kalon cult’s accomplices. His eyes rolling back, he swung his sword.
Blood and screams filled the air.
He didn’t stop swinging his sword and kept slashing relentlessly.
One, two, three, four, five…
There was no meaning in counting. He just had to kill them all. He squeezed every last ounce of strength and pressed forward.
Anything that obstructed him was cut down and disappeared. But his body had already reached its limit.
Finally, he lay down in a pool of his blood, not even thinking to remove the sword that was stuck in him. The dim sky he gazed at was a shade of crimson.
“I must… do what I have to…”
There is something he must do.
A sentence clearly formed in his mind.
He pulled out a stone that shimmered with a blue light from his pocket.
A cult’s item to send distress signals in emergencies. It surely must be that item.
He marveled at his own preparedness, channeling all his magic into the stone.
A blue signal rose toward the sky.
But he couldn’t see it, as his vision was dimming.
The symbol of the Kalon Church, not the Harpas cult, was drawn on it.
“Glory to the God of Destruction…”
That was his last testament.
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