Chapter: 49
Phwoar—!
“..!”
And just like that, I accidentally saw it. A sharp sword piercing through Lian’s abdomen, splitting his upper body mercilessly.
Iris, in a complete loss of sanity, was about to dash into the sparring ground, but if she hadn’t heard ‘that sound,’ she would’ve.
“Monster… a monster!”
As a terrified slave screamed “monster,” Iris’s feet froze like they were stuck in chains.
Zzzzing—.
A ringing in her ears, her vision turned pure white.
*’What an incredible test subject! There’s no such thing as a more perfect monster!’
‘Get lost! If I hang around a monster like you, I’m gonna end up dead too!’
‘W-wait, how are you even alive? Get away! Don’t come any closer! Y-you— monster!’
‘Monster!’
‘Monster!’
‘Monster!’
‘Monster!’*
A voice that couldn’t be identified as male, female, child, or adult echoed relentlessly in her head.
‘You are all alone in this world.’
‘You can’t be saved by anyone.’
‘You’re a monster – you’re a monster.’
‘You’re just using Lian, right?’
‘You just don’t want to die.’
‘You don’t deserve to hold a sword.’
‘You are you are you are -…’
Iris realized she was huddled up, gasping for breath. Amidst the crackling noises surrounding her, the increasingly strong scent of blood brought her back to reality.
“Ah…”
With a dazed face, Iris lifted her head. At the end of her line of sight was Lian, covered in blood, striding purposefully somewhere. Gathering strength in her shaking body, she barely managed to stand.
Iris knew how to hide her presence to survive. It wasn’t enough to trick the strong, but sufficient to evade the terrified gazes of the slaves.
Seeing Lian exit a slave’s room looking pristine left Iris frozen in shock, mouth agape.
‘When… did it start?’
Lian’s presence was always warm and safe, a stark contrast to the cruel experiences she’d endured, which felt like a distant nightmare.
From the moment she began to remember, Iris had only been a plaything in a brutal world; Lian was the first real sanctuary she had ever found.
Like any other child, Iris believed that Lian’s embrace was the safest place in the world without any issues. But that was a foolish thought.
The arms that always held her sweetly had been getting hurt in places she didn’t know of, hiding those injuries all too well.
Iris stared blankly at Lian, and when he approached her, she scurried back into her room as if she were fleeing.
And now.
Iris kept replaying the scene she had just witnessed.
‘I can’t do anything -…’
Because I’m nothing.
Because I’m a monster.
Because I’m useless.
Words she didn’t know when or from whom they came slide easily into her acceptance. She didn’t have the mental strength to deny it anymore.
“Iris, there’s this really scary friend at Bianca’s place, okay? He bites and stuff. But he doesn’t wear a muzzle, so you might get bitten too. So—”
Iris quietly listened to Lian’s words, then asked softly.
“How do you… know?”
“Huh?”
“About the biting… how do you know?”
How does he know that there’s something that bites at Bianca’s house? You can’t know that unless you’ve lived it.
“Oh, that’s because…”
As Lian muttered, trailing off, Iris shifted the topic.
“Why were you… late today?”
Her trembling eyes met Lian’s face, and in a blink, confusion flickered across it. That emotion vanished in an instant, but Iris caught it.
“Ah—… Well, on my way here, I ran into some other gladiators, you know, neighbors, so I Thought I’d say ‘hi.’ You know, those who came by before Bianca did.”
Lian rattled on, conveniently skipping the part where he was covered in blood and had to change his clothes.
Iris’s fists clenched tightly. A sob hovered in her throat.
The fear of losing her sanctuary, feeling powerless, and the disappointment that Lian was hiding everything hit her hard.
All these feelings scrambled in Iris’s head. Confused on how to sort it out, she eventually chose to run.
“You’re okay, right?”
“Huh? Of course, I’m okay.”
Iris nodded like a blind child to Lian’s reply. Her judgment was irrelevant. If Lian said it was fine, then it was fine. That was her escape strategy.
*
Thanks to my convincing, Iris seemed to bounce back to her original mood afterward. But she spoke less than before. Sure, she would answer questions and chat, but initiating conversations dropped dramatically.
‘Living here isn’t too bad, maybe?’
I had gotten used to life in the arena. Maybe because there were so many slaves, matches weren’t happening that often. During free time, I found myself lounging around or munching on tasty treats.
I peeked at what the other gladiator slaves were up to. Everyone seemed busy training. I didn’t feel the need to, so I happily laid in bed, a sword propped on my thigh.
At first, I planted it in my stomach… but soon after, the demonic sword whiningly begged to be pulled out, expressing its distaste. My internal organs weren’t too keen on being won over, either.
Iris participated in two matches, slicing through her opponents with effortless precision. According to the grapevine, it seemed she was only matched with monsters she could easily dominate to boost her bragging rights.
After days of lazy enjoyment, a new match was set up.
“If you want to avoid getting killed, you better try hard.”
Jiso flashed a cryptic smile while saying that. Not knowing what he meant, I tilted my head in confusion and internalized calling out Gargandoa.
Then, blood burst from the back of my hand, trickling effortlessly like water under magical control. That blood pooled in my hand, and in an instant, that crimson silhouette began to take form. The blood streamed down like water and revealed Gargandoa.
Reflecting back on how I had transformed from a mere heap of flesh into a demonic sword, I’d say the entrance became quite dramatic.
[Heh, that’s right. Bow before me, the great one! Be stricken with fear and admiration!]
Gargandoa seemed to be an attention-seeker. Its once-serious demeanor faded long ago.
‘Chatty, but better this way.’
Discussing how to pull off a grand entrance was way more fun than ushering in another blood festival.
Slush.
The sword now flaunted a flashy game-item-like appearance. Its blade shimmered with a red glow, so captivating it drew wow-worthy compliments with every slight move.
[Hmm, I should gather more strength and perhaps whip up some fashionable clothing for my partner.]
In our banter about how to look even cooler, Gargandoa started calling me its partner. It didn’t seem to mind if it was called a contractor or a partner; to Gargandoa, partner had a friendlier ring to it.
“Why clothes?”
[‘Cause it ain’t cool!]
True, compared to Gargandoa, my outfit looked pretty bland.
“If you come up with a weird design, you might not get dinner.”
[Ha! No one can negate the unbeatable aesthetic sense of Gargandoa, the model of ‘perfection’!]
Where on earth did it learn those lines? While lost in thought, I turned to the iron bars sliding up, signaling my entry into the arena.
“This match, ladies and gentlemen, is an epic showdown between gladiators!”
“…?”
I thought it’d be another monster bout, but this time, it looked different. I stopped mid-stride toward the center of the arena and looked up at the announcer. After spouting useless commentary, he finally uttered my opponent’s name.
“—… a genius among geniuses, with countless achievements, Bianca!”
“Kraaaak!”
“Keeeyaaak!”
“Wheeek—.”
“Uoooooh!”
The cheers poured in so loudly it shook the ground. Standing there with the demonic sword in hand, I scratched my cheek absently.
‘Ugh, this is gonna be awkward with someone I know…’
As I thought that, my eyes landed back on the opening bars. Here came Bianca, strutting into the arena and swaying her hips as if she was modeling. She looked way better than the last time I saw her.
‘Phew, looks like she’s all healed up.’
Thinking that, I smiled at Bianca warmly. Just then, as she stepped into the arena with that confident aura and locked eyes with me, she abruptly halted.
‘Huh? Didn’t Bianca know?’
If she, just like me, was unaware of who her opponent was, that shock was totally warranted. The moment I prepared to wave at her, I noticed Bianca backing away cautiously.
*
“Is he, is he crazy… why is that monster here?”
Bianca trembled, her face going pale with fear.
‘But it was supposed to be a simple match!’
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