I Was a Sword When I Reincarnated (LN) - Volume 17 - Chapter 3.1

SIDE SIBYL

I DON’T LIKE BRAGGING about how miserable my life has been. But I’m pretty sure there are very few people who have it as hard as I do.

Do I even count as a person? Hah. That’s what the useless nobles back home would say about me.

I was born several decades ago. Although I barely have any memories of what happened since.

I was born on an island in the sky. A secret Raydossian research facility.

Inhuman experiments were conducted there, and I was one of their products. In fact, I was one of the successes.

A chimera. A monster in human form. A creature made from fusing multiple monsters together to create an ultimate monster. What a stupid plan. Others have tried and had their creations run rampant in their own countries. But in their pride, the scientists of the sky isles thought their experiments would turn out differently.

The monsters went crazy because they were monsters! A human chimera would never do such a thing! 

Yes, their idea was as crazy as themselves.

The Production of Superhumans.

As silly as the title of their research was, they did their best to make it come true. The fools went through hundreds of test subjects before finally creating me.

Before I was made, they tried infusing human blood with monster blood, embedding crystals into hearts, and other insane experiments.

I was the only success to come out of it. And because I was the only success, I was also treated as a failure. 

With me, they didn’t try fusing an adult human with monster powers. Before I developed as a fetus in my host’s womb, they spliced dragon and slime DNA into me. The power of a dragon and the regenerative capability of a slime.

To accommodate such a birth, a suitable host was created: a special undead. One created by infusing Grudge into a living human, allowing her to retain her intellect and powers even as an undead. I don’t know how much of it is true. I only know that I was declared a success, then a failure, and then the whole thing was thrown out and covered up for a long time.

The researchers’ hunger for fame and self-justifying ways became so rampant that their reports became less reliable toward the end of the facility’s lifecycle. My host was said to be a woman of great repute, but I had no way of knowing for sure. Frankly, I don’t care, either. The only thing for certain was that she was an undead capable of giving birth.

And the undead gave birth to the unthinkable: a baby with the genes of man, slime, and dragon.

Could such a thing be considered human?

The baby was also born with none of the powers expected. She had Regeneration and she matured faster than most people…but that was about it.

A few years went by, and I was passed to another research facility after being deemed a failure. This one was researching cryogenics, attempting to find ways of slowing down the aging process by freezing people. They’d had no success thus far but were keen on my Regeneration abilities, probably supposing it would help me survive being frozen.

I faintly remember being put in a tube and having it filled with a viscous liquid. But I don’t recall much else from this period of my life. The terrifying faces of the researchers and the kindness of my fellow lab rats in the hellhole are all that’s left.

Neither do I know what happened to the sky isle after that. Apparently, it turned into a dungeon ten years after my freezing.

Most of the researchers died, and their research died with them. But a handful of them managed to send their results to the surface. I was among the deliverables.

Still, I was left neglected due to turmoil in the kingdom. I was seen as an ongoing experiment of cryostasis instead of as just another corpse and was left frozen for another ten years.

And even then, I was still treated as a failure. Due to a flaw in the freezing process, I was effectively a living corpse.

In the end, I was discarded. The same researchers who smuggled me out in the name of personal glory were the very same who abandoned me when I was deemed a failure. I required too much upkeep, and as long as I was around, I was proof of their foul play.

Killing me would’ve put an end to everything, but the young alchemists hesitated. They cut people open while they were alive, but gods forbid they bloody their hands by taking a life. Real idiots.

So, the fools decided to abandon me. But they couldn’t do it in just any dump.

They left me in an A Threat haunt, Insects’ Feast. The haunt was originally managed by the Adventurers’ Guild but had been requisitioned by Raydoss. At the time, it possessed the highest threat level among all haunts.

Simply put, the haunt was a giant crack in the ground. Thirty meters wide, two kilometers long, a hundred meters deep. Swarms of insect monsters made it their nest, waiting for anything from the outside world to fall in so they could consume it.

So, I was abandoned. Left to die.

But I was still a living corpse at this point. One that would find those researchers much later and make them talk.

The first memories I have were of the Insects’ Feast.

“Ahh!”

Pain. Excruciating pain all over my body.

That was the first thing I woke to.

I looked down and saw hundreds of bugs eating away at my body.

Why?

I was in a cramped hole with no space to move. I remembered being put in a tube, and then—

“Aaah!”

The pain prevented any further thought.

I don’t know how much time passed in the haze of all that pain. Probably a few days.

Somehow, I didn’t die. Whatever the insects ate kept growing back.

I eventually got used to the pain. The insects kept swarming over me, pleased to have found a constant supply of food.

Still, I didn’t understand. My regeneration couldn’t have been that good. I was bleeding profusely, absolutely drenched in my own gore. How was I still alive?

I had so much time to think that I eventually understood my situation.

I had fallen into a rock deep inside the fissure. The liquid I thought was my own blood turned out to be spring water.

Water…

An immense thirst awoke inside me. I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink for days.

The thirst revived my body, driving it to drink.

I reached my hand out to the water and scooped it into my mouth. A tiny sip invigorated me. Water had never tasted so sweet…

But it wasn’t plain water. This water was special, loaded with mana.

The mana-infused water was probably what enabled my body to constantly regenerate, keeping it topped up with mana while I suffered.

At the time, all I could think of was how grateful I was for water as I lapped as much of it as I could.

With my thirst quenched, hunger now called. Only there was no food. 

Except there was.

I took one of the beetles that had been feasting on my body and put it in my mouth. Its hard shell cut my gums and I could taste blood in my mouth. Still, I endured the rank, bitter insect meat and swallowed. It was bad. It stank, maybe from acid or poison. Or both.

Pain flared in my stomach. But still I lived. Regenerating again.

I could eat as long as I didn’t die. I could die at any moment, either from being eaten by insects or starving to death. It didn’t matter which.

So, I continued eating insects…crunching through them one bug at a time.

A few years passed after awakening in the bug nest. I actually didn’t know how much time had passed, but it was definitely more than a year.

I continued living in the haunt. The outside world was so hellish that I’d rather let the bugs eat me alive.

There were bugs with stingers, bugs with wings, bugs with giant mandibles. Of particular danger were these long and thin insects which crawled out of the bedrock and attacked by spinning really fast. But special mention goes to the bugs that used elements and magic. There were hundreds of them, most of them more adept at their particular element than the average mage.

There were others too, like bugs with poison in their bodies and ones that carried eggs inside. I didn’t know about that and thought I was constipated. It was kind of funny, really. The pain would’ve been enough to double me over, but I had acquired Pain Reduction by this point.

When I saw countless bugs bursting out of my stomach, I cried for the first time in my life. I had never seen anything so disturbing. It was the first time my emotions rose to the surface after being suppressed by countless experiments.

At the time, Timespace bugs gave me the most trouble. Not only could they teleport, but their jaws were imbued with Timespace, giving them the ability to bite through my skin right into my organs. But they were nothing but a mild nuisance once I developed Timespace Resistance.

Resistances.

Strange powers I acquired as a result of living in this hellscape, of fighting insects day and night. I later understood that I had a natural affinity for acquiring resistances, probably a result of the adaptability of my slime and dragon genes.

My resistances kept leveling up with each attack I took, and I eventually became invincible to most of the insects’ attacks. I later learned that the only resistances I hadn’t acquired were moonlight and undead (I continue to only have them at low levels to this day). Goes to show you how varied the insects were.

Another thing: I also acquired the power to eat pretty much anything.

Strange Food and Glutton. Skills often seen in dragons and slimes. I’d say I was more appreciative of this eating trait than my resistances.

I discovered it completely by accident. One time, the insects were swarming over something, and I noticed that they were licking it. Naturally, I wanted a taste for myself.

It was salty. The rock had salt and other minerals in it. I had only been eating insects until that point, and the discovery of other flavors shook me…enchanted me.

People don’t usually put salty rocks into their mouths, but for me it was the most exquisite flavor I’d ever tasted. The more I licked it, the more I wanted it. Without thinking, I bit in.

“Oh, I guess you can eat rocks, too,” I thought.

It wasn’t like I had strong jaws and teeth, or anything like that. But at some point I had acquired the ability to make things that went into my mouth brittle. I couldn’t chew through enchanted swords like candy back then, but it was enough to eat rocks and iron.

My culinary horizons broadened. If I could eat rocks, what about sand? Or soil? I would snack on crystals found inside rocks, and the steel-like carapace of some insects were no longer a problem. Particularly tasty was the rock that had mana water come out of it. That had even more mana than magicite.

So, I continued eating rocks and boulders around the spring.

Every day I would fill my stomach with rocks until I ate through a bit of rock which revealed a large room. At its center was a strange glowing sphere.

The dungeon core.

The haunt had turned out to be a dungeon all along. The dungeon master was a poisonous bug. It was mindless, but it could control the core to make a suitable environment for the insects to nest in. The mana spring had been specifically created to be an insect nursery.

But at the time all I could think was “That looks delicious.”

The dungeon core, brimming with power and energy, looked delightful. I bit into it. Ate it. Made it part of my body.

I’ve been thinking, lately, that my upbringing might have had something to do with it. As much time as I spent asleep in a tube, I was still on the sky isle for a few hours after it turned into a dungeon before I was sent to the surface.

The dungeon core dramatically increased my abilities once I consumed it. Though the monsters spawned by the dungeon disappeared with the elimination of the core, other insects had strayed in from the outside. I was able to easily annihilate all that were left.

But raw power wasn’t the only thing I acquired. Something of the core remained in me, allowing me to manipulate other dungeon cores.

I learned this when I used the Red Sword, a Raydossian relic produced by a dungeon core. I lost control. The power it produced was too great for me to handle, causing a great deal of destruction.

My body transformed into that of a giant earth dragon, wreaking havoc wherever I went: the result of a slime’s proliferative ability mingling with an earth dragon’s genes.

The Red Sword exhausted its mana after a few hours, but a small forest filled with life had been leveled. The destruction would’ve been more widespread if Biscott and the other knights hadn’t held me off.

Though I have better control of it now, I still can’t use it that well. The chancellor even put a seal on it for this little trip. I was kind of hurt by that—I was being entrusted with the sword because I was the only one who could wield it, after all. But I guess it couldn’t be helped. I’d gone crazy with the Red Sword when some Granzellian knights and mercenaries crossed our borders that one time. I was in drake form at the time, but I couldn’t rule out the possibility of witnesses who’d seen the Red Sword. They might have recognized it.

One of them did.

They recognized the sword that killed their comrades and still agreed to cooperate with us. That should tell you what they thought of their so-called comrades…

So, others might recognize it if I were to pull it out right now.

As much as I would love to continue this fight to the death, I simply can’t do that. I wonder if Fran will think I’m letting her win? Well…I’m sure she has her own hidden trump cards that she’s not willing to reveal.

Our mission was to evaluate the possibility of S-Rank adventurers living in Granzell and their power level. I would say we’ve accomplished that to a point.

Fran is an A Rank and this is what she’s capable of. S Ranks are not to be taken lightly.

I’m fading… Is this is what it’s like to die? Interesting…

What? Who’s there? Old man…?

Memories of the day when I first met my adopted father played through my mind. Was my life flashing before my eyes?

It happened when I ran out of food and began thinking about leaving the fissure. I ran into a squadron led by a man. 

“I was wondering where all the bugs went…but what’s a girl doing here?”

It was Apollonias, then captain of the Knights of the Red Sword. He named me Sibyl, plucked me out of the wilderness, and introduced me to the warmth of his family. He was the only man I ever considered my father. I would meet Biscott and Cricca after this.

Experimental Chimeras. Children born with monster DNA using the results of my research. My father took them all in. He also put a stop to the inhuman experiments. This was why the Duke of the South continued to be on bad terms with the Red Sword Knights even after his retirement.

I remember his smile…pure, without guile.

I know. Don’t worry… I’ll take care of everyone in Raydoss…

Seconds away from death, and here I am fantasizing.

Aah, but I lost…

Well, my opponent was very strong, after all.

You don’t have to cry for me, Biscott, Cricca…

I won’t lose next time…

* * *

After her victory, Fran slowly walked back to the waiting room.

Her steps were heavy, her body stiff and swaying.

Are you okay?

“Hm…”

She hadn’t taken much damage, having avoided most of Sibyl’s sword strikes and absorbing the ones that landed with Physical Immunity.

Sibyl definitely had Split Thinking. She’d had the wherewithal to attack me with telekinesis in the heat of battle. I hadn’t had an opportunity to turn the tide with my own telekinetic powers. I’d kept her busy, at least, which kept the heat off Fran.

But Fran had stayed in Flashing Thunderclap for a long time and had used divine element on top of that. Though she wasn’t hurt, she was severely exhausted. So much so that she was wincing, even now. Healing didn’t get rid of her fatigue… Would a night’s sleep be enough?

At least we saw what lay ahead of Skycutter. One day, Fran might reach a point where she could control divine element on her own.

For now, it would still be difficult. Divine element simply took too much out of her. If only there was some way for me to share her burden…

And it wasn’t just exhaustion, either. Fran was frowning, unsatisfied with her victory.

What’s wrong?

She gave me the win.

Oh.

At the end of the match, Sibyl was clearly attempting to do something before stopping. She wasn’t exhausted; it looked like she didn’t want to reveal her trump card.

If she really was a Raydossian spy, then it couldn’t be helped. But Fran wasn’t willing to accept a gifted victory.

It’s a battle to the death, but remember that this is only a tournament. She probably thought it wasn’t the right place to use her trump card. Even we have abilities we don’t wanna show off, right?

I had no intention of using Unleash Potential or Skill Taker in a tournament setting. Honestly, I’d rather lose.

But Fran still wasn’t having it.

“Hm…”

Look, we won with neither of us being able to use our trump cards. Sibyl conceded under those conditions. Just accept it and call it good.

Sibyl was more of a blood knight than Fran was. She should’ve been just as frustrated as Fran, if not more. She might’ve been rolling around in pain from the frustration right about then.

Fran finally smiled, having been convinced.

“Hm.”

More importantly, we need to prepare for our next match.

First, we would watch the next match. Abbav, disciple of Eiworth, versus Dias, guildmaster of Ulmutt. We couldn’t miss this one.

“Phew.”

Having returned to the VIP section, Fran sank into her seat. Her body was heavy.

You could sleep if you’re feeling tired, Fran. I’ll watch the match for you.

“I’m fine.”

Her eyes were bright, despite her exhausted face. Adrenaline was probably still rushing through her veins after her fight to the death with Sibyl. She wasn’t sleeping any time soon.

Want anything to eat?

“Curry. And make it spicy.”

A difficult meal to have in the bleachers, but I’d allow it. I used a wind spell to keep the smell from spreading around. Fran made a show of reaching into her inventory while I pulled out a large serving of curry for her.

Spicy, though. That was rare of her.

“Hrm. It’s starting,” Fran said through her mouth full of curry.

This was the second match of the day. She kept a keen eye on the arena while scooping one spoon of curry after another into her mouth.

Dias looked like he was wearing a tailcoat, but it was light armor made of monster hide. His playful smile was gone, and he made his entrance into the arena quietly. Maybe he wanted to carefully observe his opponent’s entrance.

Facing Dias was a wispy, willowy man with skin so white he could be mistaken for an undead. This was Abbav, student of the former A-Rank adventurer and Thieves’ Guild secret weapon, Eiworth.

Abbav quietly readied his scimitar and faced Dias. He was grinning despite being faced with a powerful opponent. Was it a show of his confidence?

“Dragon Twist Dias. I’ve always wanted to fight you, you know.”

“Have you? I’m honored, but why?”

“It’s not every day I can humiliate someone my degenerate master actually approves of! Hee hee hee! I’m getting chills just thinking about it.”

“Wow, you really do look like that idiot. I guess students take after their masters, after all.”

“Hee hee hee! I can’t wait to crush that smug face of yours! I also have another reason for wanting to fight you!”

“And what is that?”

“Heh heh. You’re the only one of my master’s ex-comrades who I actually have a chance against!” the perverted Abbav shouted, taking test tubes out of his pocket.

“Hee hee hee! Now, take my master’s poison and die!”

I Identified Abbav’s poisonous potions as Seven Winks. So called because seven winks are all you have left once the poison is in your system.

He smashed the bottles against the floor, instantly creating a cloud of smoke. It looked like the same move Eiworth used.

Abbav was immune to his own poison thanks to having level 8 Poison Resistance. Meanwhile, Dias’s resistances weren’t as good. Would he be okay?

Abbav howled, seeing that victory was at hand.

“You’re strong, I’ll give you that! The greatest illusionist of your time! Too bad your defenses aren’t up to snuff. Your evasive maneuvers are nothing against my poisonous gas!”

He was right. Dias could use illusions—Mental Suggestion and Visual Suggestion—to avoid his enemies’ attacks. But these were useless against attacks that covered an area of effect.

“Gah!”

Dias coughed up blood and fell to his knees.

Had Abbav actually succeeded in killing this giant?

“Hee hee hee! Hold your breath all you want, this poison can penetrate skin!”

“Urgh…”

“And so, Dragon Twist Dias has fallen to Abbav of the Vile Blade!” Abbav howled to the heavens, but then immediately crumpled, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“You took your eyes off your enemy in a fight? Amateur.”

“I-I have no idea what just happened! I think we all saw Sir Dias coughing up blood, but he suddenly appeared right behind Abbav! I guess it was an illusion all along!”

The fallen Dias turned out to be one of his illusions. He’d used Mental Suggestion to trick Abbav, allowing him to approach without him noticing. Dias then struck him right at his weak point.

Did you catch that?

“…A bit?”

I only caught it because we’re all the way up here…

But even then, I still missed it the first time. But I knew that Dias wouldn’t have fallen that easily to poison and I saw him focusing his attention on the entire arena to conceal something. I still couldn’t tell what he did, though. Dias was very good at concealing his presence, so when the poisonous gas didn’t work, it provided a convenient smokescreen for him.

But how did he guard against the poison? A Skill? An item? I couldn’t tell because the gas obscured whatever Dias did.

It’s not gonna be easy.

“But we’ll win.”

Uh-huh.

And so, the second round of the day ended in mere seconds in victory for Dias.

It was Hilt against Cricca next and this, too, ended quickly. There were some decent highlights, though.

Changing gears from the Radule fight, Hilt chose to wait and see.

Cricca clicked her tongue. Her game was to mainly wait for the opponent to attack so she could counterattack.

They stared at each other down in a seeming stalemate. But as time went on, Cricca started to panic.

Hilt was slowly but surely charging up mana. You didn’t have to know Dimitris Style to know that this was bad news.

Regardless, Cricca continued watching Hilt, preparing herself to dodge whatever she threw at her.

If this were the qualifiers, doubtless you’d have people in the crowd shouting, “Just fight already!” But the audience watched on with bated breath, feeling the tension Cricca was feeling.

“Haaaa…”

“Ack!”

Hilt unleashed her mana, covering the arena in an instant. But this wasn’t her attack…not yet. This was just a distraction.

Mana Sense would be useless in the presence of this wave of mana.

Then Cricca was blown away. Her body was thrown in the air, following a strange arc. That was Hilt’s spirit attack.

Unable to detect Hilt’s attack within the flood of mana, Cricca was helpless and could only take Hilt’s clever hit.

She fell outside the arena and lay motionless. The match was over.

Hilt was strong, but she was tactical, too. This strategy would not have worked against Radule, and it would’ve seen her being defeated by the old mage. She’d studied Cricca and come up with a way to deal with her specifically.

Fran wasn’t the only one still learning and getting stronger.

And so, another powerful opponent made it to the next round.

It’s finally time.

“Hm. Phelms versus Knighthart.”

We watched as the combatants entered the arena.

They were both favorites to win the tournament, and we considered both to be powerful rivals.

“This will be our final match for the day! Two fighters enter the arena, only one leaves victorious! We have the mercenary Knighthart, overcoming criticisms and achieving spectacular victories thus far! Will his dual blades claim his opponent’s life today?! Because he’s up against Dragon Hunter Phelms! And he’s been making every match so far look so easy! Will his living threads be able to capture his prey?!”

Despite the commentator’s best efforts at hyping up the crowd, the audience was noticeably quieter compared to the previous match. The last match had been between two beautiful girls, Hilt and Cricca. This match was between a dandy old man and a mantis man.

However, Fran and I were far more interested in this match. The result was impossible to predict.

Abbav lost to Dias and Cricca to Hilt. They were all strong, to be sure, but the stronger competitor was obvious in those matches.

Meanwhile, both combatants now were as strong as each other.

“Who’s going to win?”

“Woof…”

Fran and Jet were looking forward to the match, more for the excitement of it than for analysis. I, or rather P.A., would still analyze the match, of course.

“I pick Phelms.”

“Arf?”

“His threads are strong. You can’t run from them in a cramped space.”

“Ruff… Woof!”

“You think Knighthart?”

“Arf, arf!”

Jet got up on his hind legs and posed with his front paws. He curled his wrists, making him look like a Japanese maneki neko, but I think he was doing his best impression of a praying mantis.

Knighthart had speed on his side. He was among the fastest of the tournament competitors.

But I was with Fran on this one. I thought Phelms would take it.

I didn’t have a clear vision of how. His threads just reminded me of how threads worked in the animal world. Even a mantis couldn’t escape a spider’s web.

But there could always be exceptions.

As we waited for the match to start, a large figure approached us.

“Seat taken, Fran?”

“Elza? Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

Elza squeezed into his seat. He had come to watch the one who defeated him, his burning eyes set on Knighthart. Fran tilted her head.

“I thought you didn’t like bugs.”

I forgot about that. The sight of a dead bug was enough to make this femme powerhouse scream, and a giant bug monster caused him to fly into a berserker rage, attacking friend and foe alike.

But Knighthart was…fine? He was more insect than man.

“You mean Sir Knighthart’s face?”

“Hm.”

“Well, he may look like a bug, but he has the heart of a gentleman. I can see it. The things that I don’t like are creepy crawlies whose movements you can’t predict. Even when dead they’re just… Brrr!”

So, Elza didn’t have a problem with insectoids. For him, it was the soul that counted.

As we talked about predictions, the match began.

“Shiiiyaaa!”

“Thread Wall!”

The match started just about as we predicted. Knighthart rushed in with his impressive speed and Phelms started building his base of threads while being cautious of him. Threads spread all over the arena, creating a network of traps not unlike a giant spider web.

Knowing that Phelms would be more dangerous with his web set up, Knighthart was set on finishing him off as quick as possible, the way he did Elza.

I noticed that his feet were charged with magic; must have been Skanda, his unique skill. It allowed him to move at great speeds for a long period of time. Not the most impressive in terms of features…but very useful to have.

Phelms was prepared, setting up tripwires beforehand to warn him of the dangers to come. Their vibrations let him pinpoint his opponent’s location, allowing him to avoid attacks from his blind spots.

He continued dodging Knighthart’s dual blades, letting his tripwires do the work of damaging his opponent for him.

Though it looked like the dual blades had cut Phelms, he didn’t take any damage from them. This thread barrier gave us a lot of trouble, too. It deflected both cuts and strikes by absorbing their shock at the moment of impact.

“Phelms is really strong.”

“He is. He fought alongside the guildmaster once, remember?”

But Knighthart was showing no signs of slowing down. He pressed on despite his wounds, and he was rewarded with finally landing a hit on Phelms.

Knowing that his attacks were being nullified, Knighthart started looking for gaps in Phelms’s threads. His Skanda-amplified legs also increased the momentum of his attacks, imbuing each of his strikes with great force.

This was not a good position for Phelms considering how frail he was in comparison. If Knighthart kept this up, Phelms would soon be in a losing position.

Still, he calmly kept weaving his threads until finally capturing Knighthart.

“Hundred Thread Binding Array.”

“Urgh!”

The countless threads had looked harmless as they stretched around the arena. But once charged with mana, they immediately became sticky, tangling Knighthart’s feet before he could realize it.

Knighthart quickly cut the threads down to escape. But this was exactly what Phelms wanted.

Phelms was standing still in the middle of the arena, arms hanging down his sides, looking almost defenseless. He closed his eyes, a sign that what was about to come required his utmost focus.

“Hmph!”

“Gah—”

Knighthart reacted and threw the sword in his right hand, his raw strength enough to make the blade a deadly projectile. He deemed Phelms dangerous enough to risk losing half of his offense.

Knighthart’s sword hit Phelms, staining his shirt with blood.

It didn’t look like Phelms made any attempt to defend himself. Even if he was focusing, there should’ve been threads ready to protect him… In fact, the threads covering his body seemed to have loosened slightly.

The sword sank deep into Phelms’s chest, but he remained standing. He smiled.

“Ten Thousand Thread Control… Death Blood Array…”

Blood spouted like a fountain out of Phelms’s chest. The pressure was so great that it couldn’t have been from the initial wound. The threads were dyed red with his blood, lighting up the arena with an eerie glow.

As its name suggested, this move used Phelms’s blood to power up his threads. Phelms had anticipated Knighthart’s attack and chose to welcome it.

“You planned this all along!” Knighthart shouted, watching the red threads spread within the barrier.

The floor and the walls looked like they had countless veins pulsing on top of them. The inside of the arena soon looked like the insides of a hideous monster. The audience gasped as the veins launched toward Knighthart.

He swung his sword, trying in vain to cut them down. They were much tougher now that they had been reinforced with Phelms’s blood.

“Urk! This is quite a dangerous situation!”

“…”

Phelms remained silent as Knighthart struggled against his threads. He appeared unable to respond, looking like he was halfway between life and death. This trump card of his was probably a gamble he risked his life on. He only used it because he could be brought back to life in the tournament.

Either Phelms would die of blood or mana loss first or Knighthart would find a way out of this predicament.

With every passing moment small holes appeared in Knighthart’s body, slowly but surely draining him of his vitality. Meanwhile, Phelms was now on his knees.

“Urgh…”

One of the threads finally struck Knighthart’s leg. While its damage was insignificant on its own, it stuck Knighthart to the arena floor, severely restricting his movement.

The slower he was, the easier it was for the threads to strike, further slowing him down. Every red thread caused continuous damage as well as lowering his agility at the same time.

The threads attached to Knighthart also became redder, reinforcing themselves with Knighthart’s blood. His body, legs and arms were pierced with the threads that pinned him to the ground.

“Gaaah!”

Knightheart was no longer able to evade, and one of the threads shot through his chest and his heart. More threads rushed to his heart, skewering him right through. He looked like he was being eaten by countless worms. Screams were heard from the audience as the sight became unbearable.

“Eek!” Even Elza screamed.

While not real insects, the threads wriggled and squirmed like worms. I would probably have the same reaction if I were still alive. The whole thing was grotesque.

Phelms had the advantage. The match was decided. Or so I thought…

But it wasn’t over yet.

Thirty seconds after Phelms activated his trump card…

“Huff, huff… Looks like I win.”

“Indeed. I lost.”

The Cradle of Time activated, reviving Phelms. Knighthart had managed to outlast him in the match.

Fully recovered, Phelms threw some potions on Knighthart.

But how did Knighthart survive his heart being pierced?

I had a feeling it was his Insect Form skill. I Identified him as he was being attacked and found that he had turned into an insect. He didn’t look any different, but he must have taken on the organ arrangements of an insect.

They say that insects don’t have hearts the way humans do. Insect monsters had tubes which functioned a lot like hearts, and if Insect Form turned even his organs into an insect’s, Knighthart’s heart would no longer be that of a mammal.

Add to that his enhanced regeneration, and he was able to outlast his opponent.

I gathered that Knighthart had yet to fight at his full strength. His stats increased in Insect Form, after all.

“Knighthart’s so strong!”

“Woof!” Jet barked smugly. He had won the bet this time. “Woof, woof!”

“Hm. You win, Jet.”

And that’s all for today. Let’s head back to the inn.

“Hm. Bye-bye, Elza.”

“Yep! See you around,” Elza said, having recovered from the shocking conclusion of the round.

We left the coliseum, Fran dragging her feet. After that nail-biting match, she must have been starving. But then something got in our way.

“You looking for a fight?!”

“You’re the ones looking for it in the first place. If it’s a fight you want, then it’s a fight you’ll get.”

“Let’s throw down!”

“Don’t spit at me!”

Adventurers were arguing in the middle of the road. A carriage was blocking the way, so we couldn’t just walk past them.

Some of them were drunk. Specifically, the bald guys with fur headgear. They looked to be barbarian types.

They were arguing with younger, proper-looking adventurers. At the head of this party was a young archer.

This was a scene that had become increasingly common in Ulmutt as of late. The guards who were meant to deal with these minor disturbances were preoccupied. Around us, townspeople watched with worried faces as the argument escalated.

Neither party was very strong, so we could just leave them to sort this mess out for themselves. Alternatively, we could beat both of them up to resolve the fight before it could happen. Fran might have been exhausted from using divine element, but they shouldn’t prove a problem for her.

But Fran didn’t start whaling on them and instead stepped between them.

She knew some of the people who were in the argument.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh? Master Fran!”

The young adventurers were Naria and Miguel, Fran’s one-time students. Naria looked at her awkwardly, hearing the annoyance in her voice.

“You wanna go too?”

“Umm!”

Naria was clearly dismayed when the drunks glared at Fran. She saw how Fran’s eyebrows furled in frustration.

“You’re making a scene.”

“S-sorry…”

“Whuzzat?”

Naria and Miguel turned pale and silent at Fran’s quiet rebuke. But the drunk, unable to gauge Fran’s strength, challenged her further.

“Buzz off and mind your own business!”

I guess we have to get violent again…

“Hmph.”

“Gwargh!”

Fran punched his side, bruising it and turning it blue. But I’m pretty sure there were no broken bones.

“Miguel, pick them up and leave them at the side of the road.”

“Y-yes, Ma’am!”

“T-thank you, Master.”

“Hm. They were in the way.”

Naria and Riddick thanked her. The lack of manpower this year was really beginning to disturb the peace.

“We just got back from a quest, too, and we immediately had to deal with those losers!”

“A quest?”

“Yes.”

The Adventurers’ Guild had posted an extermination quest outside of town. Undead were on the rise, with some of them even showing up in town. Though not a problem by themselves, the undead would eventually attract monsters which preyed on them, so they needed to be dealt with quickly.

“And Dufaux just ditched us! I can’t believe that guy.”

“He ditched you?”

“Yeah. I thought he was going to help but then we found that he checked out of the inn… And what, because he lost to you?!”

Dufaux had been so shaken by his loss to Fran that he had apparently left Ulmutt.

As we were talking to Naria, someone tripped my Presence Sense. This particular someone was on top of a building, looking down on us.

Teacher?

…Jet, can you get that guy on the roof?

Woof!

Fran, you take the one in the alley.

Got it.

Three intruders. Hidden, but their bloodlust was obvious. They couldn’t hold themselves back; they were probably new at this.

“Master, I’m feeling a strange presence…”

“Ssh. I know. Keep talking.”

“A-all right.”

And if Naria could sense them, they were absolute rookies.

Get ’em!

“Hm!”

“Grr!”

I fired a thunder spell, signaling Fran and Jet to get moving. The suspects were quickly apprehended. They barely put up a fight.

Naria looked startled at the sudden blast of magic followed by Fran and Jet dragging three strange-looking men.

“Uhh, Master?”

“They’re assassins. I think.”

“Y-you think?”

“Hm. They wanted to kill me.”

Naria winced. She probably thought knocking them out before capturing them was a bit too much.

We found a nice quiet alley to begin our round of questioning. I healed the one I’d electrocuted so that Fran could start intimidating him.

“Why are you trying to kill me?”

“I-i-it’s just a job!”

Fran’s assassin was very talkative. These wannabe bandits had apparently been paid by people who looked like nobles.

Let’s just take them to the guild.

All right.

Fran had plenty of reasons to be targeted. She was famous, and she was a big enough threat to anyone who wanted to win big on the tournament’s illegal betting circuit.

I didn’t think any of her competition would’ve put a hit on her, but outside of them the possibilities were endless.

We dragged our wannabe assassins to the Adventurers’ Guild. But there was quite a scene there, too.

Dias had also been attacked, though he’d dispatched his attackers just as easily as we had. Were they going after the semifinalists?

“Fran? What brings you back so soon?”

“Hey, Elza. Here. For you.”

“And who are they?”

“Assassins.”

“Goodness! You got hit, too? All right, I’ll take care of them for you!”

“Thanks.”

“Can someone throw these chumps to the dungeon? Thanks!”

Elza licked his lips when Fran handed the assassins over.

“I can’t believe this is happening. Now I have to send people over to Hiltoria and Knighthart to make sure they’re okay. We’ll have to bring their assassins in, too, if they had a hit put out on them.”

“Good luck.”

“I feel a million times better with you cheering me on, Fran!”

…Settle down, Elza.

But there sure was a lot of trouble surrounding this year’s tournament. Raydossian spies, undead infestations, Chalusian nobles, and now assassination attempts.

The town guard had no way of keeping up with all of this. Was Ulmutt going to be okay?

In any case, we had a match to worry about. Hopefully, Fran would feel better after a good night’s rest.