Episode 91
The city of the Lana Guild.
Beneath this city, an underground fight club was experiencing an unprecedented boom.
Rumors spread like wildfire, no matter how hard you try to keep them under wraps. Whispers of high-ranking nobles’ representatives gathering in the guild city for the ‘black market,’ and the power struggles to establish hierarchy before the market opens.
There was no better place for such unregulated brawls than the underground arena.
Even the residents of the guild city, eager for rare entertainment, flocked to the scene.
This was no place for mere mercenaries or third-rate thieves. It was an arena for the strong—nobles’ representatives and ambitious challengers seeking to prove themselves.
In the back alleys of Lana’s city, beneath the shabby slums, lay a vast cavern.
Originally a tunnel built during the unification wars, it had been expanded and renovated over time to become the ‘Underground Colosseum,’ a symbol of the Lana Guild’s shadowy dealings.
Dale was there, amidst the darkness.
“I’m here to sign up for the fight club.”
”……!”
The man at the registration desk swallowed hard at Dale’s words. Mercenaries and thieves nearby turned their attention to him.
“Do you know what you’re getting into, especially at a time like this?”
Despite his rough appearance, the man seemed concerned for Dale, asking cautiously.
“I’m well aware.”
Dale nodded with a smile.
“Then, could it be…?”
The man’s instincts, honed in the underworld, told him that this man was one of the formidable fighters they had been eagerly waiting for.
“Very well. Please sign here. As for the fee…”
The underground arena offered several events.
Dale’s goal was the ‘Champion’s Match,’ where he could test his skills against the black market’s strongest.
In many ways, this was the true essence of the fight club…
“Before the real match, I’d like to warm up a bit.”
“Understood.”
In addition, there was a winning streak match, where the victor continued to face new challengers until defeated.
A light warm-up before the real battle.
And there was no better place to fatten one’s wallet than the fight club. Dale couldn’t pass up the chance to line his pockets, separate from the Saxon family’s funds.
With that in mind, Dale made his way through the underground cavern.
He took a path reserved for participants, separate from the spectators, ready to risk his life in the arena.
Dale’s turn came sooner than expected.
Many participants ahead of him had forfeited and fled.
‘What’s going on?’
Curious, Dale glanced at the arena from the waiting room. He was taken aback by the sight. Blood and entrails were strewn about, making the arena resemble a slaughterhouse.
The brutal reality of the underground arena, where taking a life was just part of the game.
Amidst the gore, the victor raised his arms triumphantly. A heavily armored knight clad in black.
‘Black armor?’
A deafening roar erupted from the crowd.
The thrill of blood, a festival of madness. The true face of the guild city, where even death was entertainment.
“Slaughterer! Slaughterer!”
The man was known as the ‘Butcher.’
He wielded a greatsword reminiscent of the Saxon family’s. The aura flowing from him was not that of a third-rate knight. It was the refined aura of a knight formally trained and disciplined.
And he looked familiar.
“Who will stop the Butcher’s undefeated streak?”
“Nine wins already! He’s on the verge of his tenth!”
“Oh, what a shame. Everyone’s too scared to face him!”
“The Butcher’s celebrations are notoriously brutal!”
“It seems he might win his tenth by default!”
The amplified voices of commentators echoed from afar.
“Me, fight that monster? No way!”
The last participant ahead of Dale fled. A thousand gold coins were worthless compared to one’s life.
“Oh no! Another coward has fled!”
“Now there’s only one left! Will he dare challenge the Butcher?”
“Who knows? Judging by his suspicious robe, he might not be an ordinary fighter!”
Finally, it was Dale’s turn. Without hesitation, he stepped toward the arena.
In the underground fight club, anything goes to win.
Except for two things: using the ‘World of Ideas’ as a mage and the ‘Avatar’ as a knight.
The former would lose its spectacle, and the latter would be too destructive. If fighters of that caliber clashed, even the spectators’ lives couldn’t be guaranteed.
This was why Dale was confident of victory in the fight club.
Among the noble representatives, there might be knights who had reached the Avatar level. Even Dale couldn’t guarantee a win against an Avatar user.
But with the restrictions on the ‘World of Ideas’ and ‘Avatar,’ it was a different story.
Even if his opponent was an ‘Aura Master,’ Dale was confident he wouldn’t lose.
With the Hero’s Sword and his four circles, not to mention the Butcher, who hadn’t reached the Avatar level, he was sure of it.
The duke’s eldest son stepped into the arena, ready to risk his life.
If his mother, Elise, knew, she’d probably faint. Dale chuckled wryly at the thought.
“Interesting.”
The Butcher adjusted his grip on his greatsword as Dale approached.
‘As expected.’
Dale’s prediction was spot on.
The black armor, painted over to hide its affiliation, and the shape of the greatsword… Despite modifications, its foundation was unmistakable.
The Saxon family’s Night Raven knights, awarded greatswords to those above the Aura Knight level.
A Zweihänder.
“Why is a Night Raven knight, sworn to the Saxon family, here?”
”……!”
Dale’s question caused a flicker of unease in the Butcher’s expression.
“Could it be…?”
With his aura swirling around the greatsword, the Butcher’s black aura blade, a symbol of the Saxon family’s Night Raven knights, emerged.
“Wow!”
The crowd erupted again at the sight of the aura.
“The Butcher has finally drawn his aura blade!”
“The man in the robe… what should we call him?”
“Who knows? We might not even get to his name before the match ends!”
“Kill! Kill! Kill!”
“Please win! I’ve bet everything on your tenth victory!”
The arena was filled with frenzied shouts.
“Let’s hope the river’s warm.”
Dale replied, and the Butcher charged. The Saxon family’s black sword swung. In a place devoid of even a breeze, Dale drew the knight’s sword hanging at his waist. A draw so swift, it was hard to believe he was a mage.
Clang!
The aura blade was blocked.
“What just happened?”
“The man in the robe blocked the Butcher’s aura blade with an ordinary sword!”
“I can’t believe my eyes!”
When a regular steel sword clashes with an aura blade, it usually suffers critical damage, if not breaking outright. Yet, facing the Butcher’s black sword, Dale’s blade remained unscathed, its edge still sharp.
Not a scratch on the blade.
The thought projected onto Dale’s knight’s sword was beyond mere aura.
──A mage projecting his thoughts onto his weapon, an absurd idea.
The result of linking his past self, the Hero’s Sword, Peacemaker, with his current self.
And now, Dale wielded more than just the Hero’s prowess. Four circles spun within his heart. Black-blue mana swirled like a vortex, and his shadow cloak began to glow.
The Butcher retreated, creating distance. Dale spoke.
“I’ll ask again, knight who broke his oath.”
“Could it be that you are…?”
“Why did you forsake the Saxon oath?”
Why he left the Saxon family and ended up here was a mystery.
He could be a deserter or someone who willingly abandoned the Saxon sword. Leaving one’s lord was a knight’s freedom.
But using the Saxon black sword without loyalty to Saxon was another matter.
Dale finally removed his hood and spoke.
“Why does someone who abandoned the Saxon name wield ‘our family’s’ black sword?”
A cloak of shadows fluttered at his feet. At just twelve years old, he had already reached the fourth circle of magic—a prodigy among wizards.
The greatest talent of the empire, known by a single moniker.
“The… Black Prince…”
As the butcher muttered those words, the commotion in the arena came to a sudden halt. The silence didn’t last long.
“The Black Prince!”
“It’s the Black Prince of the Sachsen family!”
“The Black Prince has appeared at the fight club!”
Soon, the air was filled with frenzied cheers.
“Is this really happening?!”
“The empire’s greatest genius, the eldest son of the Sachsen family, has graced the arena with his presence!”
The voices of the commentators, amplified by magic, echoed loudly. No one was chanting the butcher’s name anymore.
“That brat from Sachsen…”
The butcher gripped the black sword of Sachsen, his voice dripping with malice.
“You, who look down on us from the heavens, what do you know to dare speak such words?”
To this, Dale responded with a cold sneer.
“At least I know your sword will never reach the heavens.”
As if he truly were a being from above, shadowy blades formed around him, orbiting like satellites.
Simultaneously, Dale adjusted his grip on his main sword, Peacemaker.
The butcher charged, and Dale did the same. Without aura, against a knight using all his strength.
The two swords clashed. Immediately after, the six shadowy blades orbiting Dale surged forward.
A festival of blood where even death became a mere spectacle.
In this frenzy, the infamous cruelty of the ‘Black Prince’ was on full display, showing no mercy.