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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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“…What are you talking about?”
The reaction was…lackluster.
I had succeeded in making him speak, which he hadn’t done throughout the tournament, but his response was underwhelming.
Was he feigning ignorance? Or did he genuinely not understand the Halphas Cult’s greeting? Would I have to resort to violence?
I lengthened my shovel and adopted a relaxed stance.
A posture that clearly conveyed a lack of aggressive intent.
While Lewis and Theo had focused on seizing the initiative, I intended to let him make the first move.
My goal was to ascertain his identity.
“…”
“…”
“Hey, why aren’t they fighting?”
“That’s…a battle between masters.”
“Masters?”
“They’re assessing each other’s strength through their aura. There’s no need to rush.”
“Ah, so that’s why they’re just standing there.”
The silence amplified the surrounding conversations.
I glanced at a nearby old man with a goatee, who was offering an explanation that sounded like it belonged in a martial arts novel. I almost laughed, but I managed to maintain my composure.
Was he not going to attack?
“You’re from the south, right?”
“…”
“I don’t understand why someone with your skills is working as a mercenary. You could easily earn a knighthood.”
“I have no intention of becoming anyone’s lapdog.”
“Are you calling me a lapdog?”
“I never said that…”
“Silence! You insolent fool!”
I’m an asshole. I’m an asshole. I’m an asshole. I’m an asshole. I’m an asshole. I’m an asshole. I’m an asshole.
“Not only are you suspicious, but you’re also rude. You clearly have an ulterior motive for participating in this tournament. Why don’t you tell us what it is?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Search your heart. You impertinent wretch.”
“I’m not sure if this is a fight or a shouting match…”
“Silence.”
“…”
“Craft.”
The arena floor erupted beneath Stoke’s feet.
He leaped back, easily avoiding the sudden pillars of earth. It hadn’t been a serious attack, but I was still slightly disappointed he had dodged so effortlessly.
I had hoped to rattle him, but he wasn’t easily fazed.
I decided to push further.
“That Halphas bastard…”
“…What?”
“That damned Halphas raven bastard. When I see him, I’ll pluck every single feather, bread them, and deep-fry him. He’ll make a delicious snack.”
His expression flickered at my sudden outburst against Halphas.
My bait was working. I wasn’t sure if he was simply surprised or if I had struck a nerve.
I pressed on.
“…You’re insane.”
“Insane? Craft. I’m. Craft. Insane? Craft.”
He was nimble, dodging my attacks like a cat. I clicked my tongue, watching him effortlessly avoid the poorly aimed earth pillars.
Was he not going to attack?
“Do you have some kind of disease that prevents you from attacking first? Craft.”
At this rate, the arena would be filled with earth pillars before the fight even started. I casually observed the underwhelming battle, tapping Rue.
[Contractor, have you ever been in a street fight?]
What a ridiculous question. Just focus on detecting lies.
“All bark and no bite.”
“Say ‘Halphas bastard’ one more time. I dare you.”
“Ha. Why are you doing this? We’ve never met.”
“Cat got your tongue?”
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to achieve.”
“If you don’t understand, then stop acting like a coward and tell me.”
“…Ha.”
Look at his face. That conflicted expression was exactly what I wanted to see.
“Was that a difficult request? Insulting the Halphas Cult shouldn’t be that hard.”
He responded with an irritated expression.
Having confirmed his affiliation, I delivered the final blow.
“Stoke, Stoke. Is that how the ravens taught you to assassinate?”
“…How did you…?”
His expression contorted at the word “Stoke.”
Stoke.
Another name for a heron.
A bird often associated with Halphas, who took the form of a raven.
And a term used to refer to the enforcers of the Halphas Cult.
I had only remembered that while taunting him.
“…You knew all along. I heard there was a strange man by the Saintess’s side, but I didn’t realize he knew our secrets. I’ll have to reassess your threat level.”
“Trying to act tough?”
Look at his clenched fists.
I could practically see him thinking,
“How can I kill this bastard?”
His attempts to maintain a calm facade were…admirable.
He hadn’t earned his position as an enforcer by being incompetent.
He had been wearing armor in the game, so I hadn’t seen his face clearly. I imagined he had the same raven tattoo on his back.
“Surrender now, and I’ll make it quick—”
“Shut up.”
“No.”
“…The mission is a failure. I’ll have to bring back your head as compensation.”
“You? Bring back my head?”
I sneered, deliberately provoking him.
“Are you relying on that rabid dog? She’s too far away. I have plenty of time to kill you. Your physical abilities are…lacking.”
Stoke lunged forward.
A sharp gust of wind rushed towards my neck. I had only a fraction of a second to react. I raised my shovel, blocking the incoming blade.
“That’s…heavy.”
The force of the impact sent a jolt of pain through my arm.
“Craft. Craft. Craft. Craft.”
Sharp earth spikes erupted between us, creating distance. I waited for his next move, but he remained motionless, his gaze fixated on me, as if anticipating a counterattack.
He wasn’t going to fall for my taunts.
“You managed to block my attack with a shovel.”
“Scared now, Stoke? That’s why you’re so talkative.”
“…”
He unleashed his Aura in response to my taunt. I watched as his sword glowed with a crimson light and cast a spell.
“Sprinkler.”
A sticky liquid coated the arena floor. I spread the viscous substance as widely as possible. No matter how agile he was, he couldn’t avoid it completely.
Still focused on the duel, or perhaps realizing he couldn’t escape on foot, he remained in the arena, the viscous liquid coating his body.
I watched him try to shake off the sticky substance, then pulled a matchbox from my pocket.
“What’s this…?”
“You ruined the campfire yesterday.”
Fwoosh.
A tiny flame flickered to life in the bright morning sun.
“You madman—”
“I hear cremation is the latest trend in funerals.”
I dropped the match.
It ignited instantly.
“The arena is on fire! He created flammable oil with magic! What an unusual spell!”
I had been so focused, I hadn’t even heard the announcer’s commentary. I waved vaguely at the audience, then turned back to Stoke, who was now surrounded by flames. It was time for him to make his escape.
“Rue, get ready.”
[Is it finally my turn—]
I grabbed Rue from my belt and held her high. This should be enough. I tossed Rue into the air.
“Whoa! He threw a grimoire! A grimoire into the air! What kind of magic is he planning?!”
It wasn’t a particularly flashy spell, unfortunately. I gripped my shovel and charged towards Stoke, who was now emerging from the dissipating flames.
As I had predicted, he was mostly unharmed, aside from some singed clothing and slightly burnt skin. He had used his Aura as a shield. I grinned, looking at his scorched appearance.
“Now you look like a true servant of the raven.”
“You bastard…”
He was close to losing control. But I needed him to remain somewhat rational.
Because—
“Why do you think I started this fire?”
“…”
He wasn’t even responding anymore. I dodged his attack, his movements slower than before.
Predicting his attacks based on his sluggish movements wasn’t difficult.
After dodging a few more strikes, I pointed towards the sky.
“The answer is above you.”
“Don’t be ridic—”
Unable to contain his unease, his gaze, losing its composure, flickered upwards.
At that moment, Rue’s eye, falling from the sky, gleamed. The gleam was lost in the bright sunlight, but its effect remained.
[His mental defenses are incredibly strong.]
“Is he immune?”
[Nothing can withstand my power!]
He didn’t look brainwashed to me.
“What…have you done…?”
It wasn’t completely ineffective, though.
He stumbled, his body swaying.
It was the effect of Rue’s brainwashing beam, which she had used relentlessly during her days of being chased by cats.
It wasn’t enough to completely control him, a testament to his strength as an enforcer, but it was enough.
“Craft.”
A three-pronged earth spike, like a trident, erupted from the ground, aiming for his groin. I channeled all my remaining mana into amplifying Rue’s brainwashing beam.
“Gah…!”
“Uh…uh…S-Sir Quartz! This is…unacceptable! This is just an exhibition match!”
What was he talking about?
The announcer’s frantic voice reached my ears. I pointed at the raven tattoo visible through Stoke’s burnt clothing and shouted,
“He’s one of the assassins from yesterday!”
“What? Is that true?”
“It is! He has a raven tattoo on his back!”
“I was cheering for him…”
My declaration threw the audience into chaos. It was to be expected, considering some of them had witnessed yesterday’s events.
I glanced at Karina, who was looking at me with concern, then turned back to Stoke.
“What? He’s an assassin?”
“I knew something was off about him…”
“You said he was a good guy yesterday!”
“How was I supposed to know he was an assassin?!”
“…Then…we have no choice!”
The quick-witted announcer adapted to the situation instantly. I glanced at him, then turned back to Stoke.
Stoke, effectively neutered, collapsed to the ground, clutching his groin. No matter how rigorous his training, he wouldn’t have prepared for that.
This tactic was always effective.
I approached him without hesitation and shoved Rue in his face. He wouldn’t be able to resist Rue’s brainwashing beam at point-blank range.
After confirming that the light had vanished from his eyes, I gave Rue one final command.
“Rue. Inscribe these words into his mind.”
It was a shame I couldn’t extract any information due to his mental defenses.
[Understood.]
Ah, one last gift.
I pulled an object from my pocket, something I had received from Principal Merlin, and placed it in Stoke’s pocket.
“You are—”
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‘The mission…a failure.’
A dark alleyway.
Stoke, having barely escaped the arena, clutched his groin in agony and pulled a brooch from his pocket. An artifact that could be used in case of mission success or failure.
He activated it without hesitation.
Normally, he would have exercised caution, but his mind was consumed by a single thought, he had to return.
I must return. I must return. I must return. I must return. I must return. I must return. I must return. I must return. I must return.
He closed his eyes.
He desperately wished to return to his base.
As if responding to his desire, the artifact vibrated, emitting a rainbow-colored light.
When he opened his eyes, he was standing in the place he had longed to return to.
Which was currently occupied by the enemies of his despicable cult.
‘…What is this?’
Hatred surged within him.
Consumed by rage, he drew his sword.
“Damn you, Kalon worshippers…!”
“…You’ve returned?”
“What’s going on…?”
“What’s wrong with—”
“Aaaaagh!”
His targets were the despicable followers of Kalon. He swung his sword blindly.
Blood splattered, screams echoed.
He swung his sword relentlessly.
One, two, three, four, five…
There was no point in counting. He just had to kill them all. He pushed forward, using every ounce of his strength.
Everything in his path was cut down. But he was reaching his limit.
Ignoring the swords piercing his body, he collapsed into a pool of blood. The sky, viewed through his fading vision, was crimson.
“I…must…fulfill…my duty…”
A phrase echoed clearly in his mind.
He pulled a blue gem from his pocket.
A communication device used to send distress signals. That’s what it must be.
He marveled at his own foresight, then channeled all his remaining mana into the gem.
A blue symbol appeared in the sky.
But his vision was too blurred to see clearly.
That it wasn’t the symbol of Halphas, but the symbol of Kalon.
“Glory…to the God of Ruin…”
Those were his final words.
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