BUILDING MY OWN EMPIRE - My Journey from Nothing to Overwhelming Power

Chapter 117 - 116 – A Month of Missions

"I haven’t seen you in a month, my lord," answered the girl, Fiona. Then she smiled with joy and invited me inside the shop.

I returned the smile. "Any developments?" I said, then followed her.

Fiona moved her lips in a silent yes, then drew from her hands two gleaming cubes — each about the size of a palm.

I knew exactly what they were.

"Accumulation storage cubes," I said, then added, "How much is in them?"

"Eighty thousand, my lord," Fiona answered. "Unfortunately, I was only able to sell a small number of weapons. None of the lords are willing to buy weapons using accumulation."

"No matter," I said.

It was not surprising to hear that.

I already knew the lords were not foolish enough to give up their precious accumulation — their winning card for climbing the ranks — especially for a specialized weapon. If what was on offer were ancient relics, things might have been different entirely.

But I had bet on one thing, and it had worked.

"A wise lord has no desire to spend accumulation on a custom weapon. But a wise lord who needs a specific type of custom weapon... might pay," I said, then stored the cubes.

After a month of missions.

I had reached sixty successful and failed missions.

I had earned sixty exchange points.

I exchanged them for six general mission points.

Then I spent those points to unlock the hidden missions.

Now, my tally stood at seven sacrifices toward the hidden missions — and I was drawing very close to unlocking them.

I needed only three more.

On the other side,

My movements toward the missions had begun to attract attention.

So I was forced to fully succeed in certain missions to build a reputation and climb the ranks.

In the first adventurer rank — Silver — I now held more than a hundred points.

There was still a long way to go. But I had discovered that succeeding in a second-rank mission could bring me far greater points.

Still, I was trying to avoid entering that arena for now.

Today — the time had come for my first battle.

Which battle?

It seems you have forgotten about the Fate Matches announced by the Center Above the Ocean.

After submitting my application and registering my name, I had been waiting for instructions.

A week ago, a notification was sent informing me that my battle would be today.

I had received no information other than the location of the fight.

And here I was now, passing by Fiona’s shop to invite her along.

Had I started to care about her?

Don’t be foolish.

The battle message had been clear — bring an assistant. And who better to bring than Fiona?

"What?" I snorted, upon hearing her answer.

"I apologize, my lord. I am unable to do that. Please forgive me," she answered — cutting through all my plans.

Her words were not hesitant, nor searching for reward. They were words of quiet confidence and absolute refusal.

I did not respond.

I had no desire to enter into a discussion and find out why. The refusal was clear. Whatever the reason, it did not matter.

I turned around.

Swiftly I was outside the shop.

"There are still 3 hours," I murmured.

I directed my gaze toward a specific place and dashed forward.

Fast. Like lightning.

Once again, I was drawing on the power of the fourth rank.

Time was tight. The distance I needed to cover was vast.

My full strength was the only solution to arrive on time.

After darting between buildings.

After a short while.

I arrived at my destination. The moment I knocked on the door —

The old fisherman was already at it.

"My lord adventurer..." the old man answered with surprise.

He had not expected to see me today.

In the days prior, I had been stopping by twice a week — helping him with fishing.

Without pay.

Well — perhaps some fish.

But generally without pay.

Today, the old man was surprised to see me.

Our scheduled visit was tomorrow, yet there he was looking at me today.

I went inside and began to explain.

It did not take long before the old man stopped me.

"After what you have done for me, you need not explain. Of course I will help you," he said.

I smiled, then asked him to hurry.

Two hours later.

My cart, the old man, and his three grandchildren came to a stop near a large iron gate, divided into several iron sections like hollow pipes — what lay beyond was easily visible through them.

There were a number of guards.

I raised the fighter’s identification card I had been issued. The guards allowed me through at once.

The eyes of the old man and his grandchildren were wide with astonishment.

None of them would have been permitted to enter a place like this — not even as corpses.

The greenery and the paved road, flanked by enormous fountains, stretched for more than a thousand meters.

It carried a grandeur and a beautiful, harmonious elegance.

At the end of the road — the arena.

"It looks like the Colosseum," I whispered to myself.

I stood before it at last.

It was a white arena, like a great circular rock.

Composed of small and large stones, fitted together with precise geometric symmetry.

Before the great gate of the arena, a large number of participants had gathered — of varying ranks and strength.

But the common thread was clear: everyone was concealing their rank and power.

Despite the excitement and the crowd, caution was the prevailing trait.

Above the gate, a large screen had been set up.

Not a screen in the literal sense — merely a visual display projected from one of the cubes.

On it were five scheduled battles for the day.

The last among them was my fight.

"First time?" whispered someone beside me.

I turned. He was holding two short swords and dressed in a rogue’s garb — his face hidden beneath a hood and a large black cloak.

His power was concealed, and his rank was too.

"Yes," I said. "First time."

"Alright. Head toward that door and tell them — they’ll prepare your room and register your companion," said the warrior.

"Do you need anything else?" he added.

I answered in the negative and thanked him.

Then I moved.

Shortly after, the organizers were already standing near that door.

After a brief explanation, I was escorted inside. The corridor was long and branching, until I reached my room.

Above the door, it read: (Standard Room).

It was decent — but the word "standard" was evident in every detail.

After a moment, one of the organizers entered.

He took all my information again.

He requested payment of the remaining registration fee.

The total registration cost was 130,000 accumulation points. I had paid sixty thousand a week ago.

Now, I settled the remaining balance.

Then the assistant registered the old man as my companion and explained the rules.

Once finished, he asked me to either wait or go to the Colosseum seats to watch until my match time arrived.

Step by step, until we arrived.

The moment we stepped out, the roar of the crowd was deafening beneath the thunder of blows.

I moved steadily toward one of the seats, then sat — with the old man and his grandchildren beside me.

My eyes turned toward the Colosseum.

It was enormous — like a football stadium.

Packed to the brim.

The upper section, enclosed behind a blue barrier, never revealed what lay within.

The other stands held countless spectators, fighters, and lords alike.

The side where I sat contained only lords, participants, and their companions.

The other sides held the rest of the audience.

My eyes turned toward the arena floor, where all eyes were fixed.

There was a massive body with two horns and the head of a bull, gripping an enormous sword resembling the black Berserk blade.

The bull was causing an uproar in the great arena, unleashing strikes with savage force.

Through the clouds of dust, a lean figure in rogue’s garb held two swords.

He was only running.

"Ooooh, a real battle at last — finally something worth watching!" shouted the old man’s eldest grandchild.

His brothers joined in.

The old man was silent.

The battle was nearing its end — the chase on the verge of conclusion.

When the lean warrior stopped, then charged in a straight line directly at the bull.

Suddenly.

"Haaaaaa!" the crowd erupted.

Two meters from the bull — the warrior vanished.

He reappeared behind him and drove both swords downward toward the base of the bull’s feet.

The bull swung his blade.

The warrior pulled back.

Then charged again.

The roar returned as he vanished once more, just as before.

The bull spun swiftly — he had read the previous movement and reacted to the new one in an instant.

But — the warrior struck from the side.

Then pulled back.

He kept attacking, vanishing, and striking.

Until the bull began to falter, exhausted.

"What a lethal technique," rang the voice of a nearby warrior in the adjacent seats.

"All that strength means nothing against a fighter with speed and agility," said another warrior’s voice.

The fight went on for several minutes.

Without realizing it, I yawned.

Then quickly covered my mouth.

Below, everyone was anticipating the lean warrior’s victory.

My eyes were probing something else.

Then — the bull advanced. He stopped retreating.

He was exhausted and gasping. His wounds bled heavily.

But he chose to press forward.

"Has he figured out the secret?" I murmured aloud, without noticing.

"What secret?" came a feminine voice from the side.

I turned.

A blonde girl with gleaming layered hair and rosy lips.

She wore a combat outfit — a leather suit encircled by several pieces of dark armor.

I had been whispering to myself, and without realizing it, the words had come out aloud.

I had not noticed that everyone here could hear one another even with just a few words.

I smiled. "I don’t know, haha," I laughed. "Of course there’s a secret behind such a powerful technique," I said.

The girl did not answer. She turned back toward the arena.

At that very moment —

The lean warrior charged. The instant he did

—

The bull charged too.

The lean warrior’s eyes darted forward in shock.

Then the distance between them closed rapidly.

The lean man did not vanish.

He raised both swords — in defense.

In an instant —

The great black blade crashed down upon him.

BOOM.

The sound of impact thundered through the air.

Suddenly —

The lean warrior’s screams rose high.

One of his hands was severely injured.

While the bull stood over him.

He raised his sword.

And brought it down again with fury.

"Withdraw!" cried the lean warrior.

The bull halted his strike.

Then —

The crowd erupted in a deafening, violent roar.

"It seems he uncovered the secret you were speaking of," the blonde girl tilted her head toward me with a smile.

I laughed.

I did not answer.

There was no need to reveal the weaknesses of others — whether I would need that information later or not.

It was mine alone, and I would share it with no one.

Not with a beautiful blonde girl. Not with a filthy swamp ghoul.