n

n

nKrow saw Hulach pushing grimly through the crowd. He bent down at the edge of the platform.

n

"What's going on? I thought there were other fights before the final?

"

nThanjar shook his head.

"One of the winners declined to continue because of injury.

"

nPlausible.

nIn this situation though, was it believable?

nHulach reached them just as Avaldan did.

n

"This wasn't arranged by us,

" the dwarvir blacksmith rumbled, perceptive eyes roaming over Hulach and the two herbalists that accompanied Krow through the tournament.

n

"It's fine,

" said Krow..

"I hope you don't mind if I continue to borrow your sword?

"

nThe blacksmith inclined his head, made an assenting grunt. His eyes narrowed at something behind Krow.

nHe glanced back, to see the referee looking away.

nHo, someone's in trouble.

nApart from him, he meant.

nHulach glared at the blacksmith, then looked at Krow like there was something he wanted to day but couldn't. Something that could not be said with outsiders listening, likely. Hulach, ultimately, decided on:

"You could refuse.

"

n

"We both know I can't.

"

nThe referee had referenced honor and specifically mentioned the village. They could not back down here.

n

"You didn't come to Cerkanst for this.

"

n

"But I choose to do it, just the same.

"

n

"Are the contestants ready?

" the referee yelled.

nNo rest period, huh?

nSomeone really didn't want him to win this.

nA spark lit in Krow's gut, a burning ember familiar to him after years of suppressing rage and despair.

nA helpless feeling rose with the roiling of anger.

nThe referee went specially to mention he'd won the tournament. That meant the tournament rules were not in place.

nThe other side had undoubtedly stacked the deck.

nThere was no way he could manage a victory with this.

nHe could not win here.

nBut also, he could not lose.

nKrow knew the heady feeling of winning. Until his mother died, he'd considered himself a winner in life. That arrogance had slowly been ground down during his unemployment. He'd lost, and lost again.

nIt crumbled to a ruin in Zushkenar, where the feeling of losing had been a constant companion.

nSlowly, he'd taken back that confidence, a long and hard road.

nBut upon return to Earth, the foundations he'd built in another world crumbled and cracked, his confidence once again shaky.

nFunny, that it was Redlands that had slowly been building back that ruined self-assurance.

nHe had goals, damnit.

nHe'd despaired but, in this Redlands, he hadn't lost yet.

nIt probably wasn't healthy to have this much anger, so suddenly, at people who were only doing their 'jobs'.

nBut weeping graves, if they wanted Krow to lose, fine.

nHe'd give them a loss.

nBut that didn't mean he couldn't bite a chunk out of them in the process.

nHe straightened, smiled.

"It's going to be fine.

"

nHulach looked even more concerned at that assurance.

n

"Fighter Number 157 is allowed potions before the fight!

"

nHeh. Not even a name?

nA boy climbed up the platform with a small chest of Low Heals in his arms, smiled at Krow as he offered the potions.

nHe took one.

"Thanks.

"

n

"Good luck!

" The boy beamed at him before scrambling toward the referee-announcer.

nKrow surreptitiously flipped the vial into his inventory, replacing it with one of his own. He made a show of drinking it.

nHe was sure no one would be so stupid as to drug him with so many onlookers, and three herbalists at his side, but it paid to be cautious.

nThe level-up earlier brought his HP and MP to 100%, removed debuffs. But since they were so kind, could he refuse?

nHe would be sure to return their kindness.

n

"Readyyyy?

" Both fighters nodded.

"Begin!

"

nSwords clashed immediately. Krow felt the sting of the impact all the way to his shoulders. He evaded the brunt of the blow, thrust.

nIt only scratched the armor. Superficial damage.

n

"The paint on your chest is kind of cheap,

" Krow observed. It wasn't Rare armor.

nHe ducked a swing meant for his neck. It was so fast, he could almost feel the touch of steel at his throat.

n

"Silent type?

" Then his face fell into sympathetic lines.

"Speech defect? I know a few people who could help with that, if you want.

"

nHe dodged a downward swing. The platform cracked under the force exerted.

nThe other was definitely not an amateur level.

nBloody conspiracy.

nKrow parried and dodged.

nHe attacked once or twice, but let the force of the other batter him back. Not that Krow was holding back.

nThe other was too strong.

nIt was not long before blood from numerous cuts stained the white of Krow's shirt.

nKrow kicked the other's swordhand. It didn't budge.

nWhat was he made of, stone?

nKrow eyed him, estimating his height. The other was tall, but still under the minimum height afforded the magmigant race, who sometimes grew crystals on their bodies.

nThe other was that strong?

nHe'd only be flattered if they sent a Lvl 20 to deal with poor little him.

nKrow attempted to cross swords, grimaced at the jarring pain, then angled the falchion into the other's space, nicked the chiseled jawline under the helmet.

n

"You know, they say handsome manly faces have a cleft chin. Did they not have that on your avatar editor? Ah, I guess the game thought even full skew on your features wouldn't make you worthy of it.

"

nThe body language changed from passively irritated to furious.

nThe other battered at Krow's blocks, nearly using his sword like a club.

n

"Oh, did I hit a nerve?

" Krow retreated, retreated again.

nThe most he could do was slightly deflect the blows. Even with the lessened pain of the VR system, Krow's arms slowly went numb.

nHe couldn't keep this up much longer.

nHe retreated.

n

"Alright, I understand. You'll be fine with the cleft jaw I gave you. Can't say I'm a cosmetic surgeon, though. You better get it looked at by experts. If they even could help.

"

nThat great sword swung, a wide arc.

nOpportunity.

nThe edge of the platform was right behind him.

nKrow twirled the falchion, bounced on his feet, blocked with the flat of the falchion.

nHe timed a double-jump just as the opponent's blade met his.

nOw.

nEven with double-jump evading most of it, the force rattled his bones. It provided more momentum for the jump.

nHe flew through the air, crashed on the sacks of sawdust that prevented spectators from approaching too close to the platform.

n

"Butcher! Are you alright?

"

nOw.

nHe lifted his head, even that small motion causing pain to crackle through his limbs.

n

"…out of bounds! Leverad Kelfort wins over Number 157 of Cerkanst!!

"

nKrow pushed down his smile.

nThe cheers that the other gained at the announcement were sporadic.

nHe got slowly to his feet.

nA number of hands assisted.

nIt had been a totally one-sided fight. His two hits hadn't even mattered.

nHow could the audience not be suspicious?

n

"Butcher, are you alright?

"

nKrow put on a pained smile, waved at the nearby spectators.

"Thank you. It looks like it's my loss. Sorry if I lost you money.

"

nThere were a few laughs.

n

"That's alright,

" came a shout,

"it was only a serpens!

"

n

"I'm honored to mean that much to you,

" he said dryly.

nThe laughter grew.

nHe staggered slightly, then limped for a few steps, and then strode toward Tharjan and the others, leaving the sympathetic spectators with a heroic smile.

n*

nChapter End

n*

nNote:

nIf you see this work on other websites, know that the author Jin Daoran posts exclusively on webnovel(dot)com. If you like the story, please support this misfortunate author by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot)com. Thanks!

n