Inheriting the Novel

Chapter 40 : Calamity of Disease and Demons (1)

Calamity of Disease and Demons (1)

'Tomorrow, chaos will arrive.'

Edward stroked his mask with his palm as he pondered.

It had been a long journey. From having nothing, to gaining strength, and finally making it here.

Only hatred.

It was only his hatred for humans that sustained him.

Clatter.

Edward placed his mask on the table and stared at the mirror.

If anyone were to see the face revealed beneath his mask, they would be horrified.

Demihuman.

A race that closely resembled humans.

Among them were not only those who were simply of a different "species", but also existences with blended blood.

"...... Mother."

His mother had been human.

She had been an excellent doctor.

But what she gave birth to was not a human. It was a monster, a hybrid of goblin and human.

The result of the tragic accident that befell her as an adventurer.

Normally, Edward's life would have ended the moment he was born.

But his mother, having lost her mind after giving birth, could not recognize Edward as a monster.

She raised him, believing him to be a human child, and even as she was stoned to death by the villagers who found her, she died thinking Edward was human.

"There isn't much left."

Other than his grotesque appearance, he was no different from a human.

If one only covered his face, anyone would mistake him for an ordinary human.

On the contrary, Edward was born with an exceptional mind.

Perhaps it was the blood of a goblin, known for their cunning, that influenced him.

Instead, because the blood of a low-rank monster ran in his veins, Edward could not use magic power.

But he had medicine.

Medicine learned from his mother. And the countless books she had left behind.

By self-study, Edward reached a level comparable to most doctors.

But he did not stop there.

He had no intention of stopping until he avenged the humans who killed his mother.

"With my greatest masterpiece and this body......."

He went through countless trials and errors to strengthen a body incapable of harnessing magic power.

And as a result, he obtained a strange power.

No disease or poison could harm his body; instead, they became part of his flesh and blood.

Why was such a thing possible?

He wondered, but Edward gave up thinking about it deeply. All he cared about was destroying this world.

* * *

Imperial Tournament Semifinals.

Being here was, in truth, evidence of an ability that transcended age.

It was a position of glory that countless talents dreamed of reaching, but right now, I had no room to care about such things.

"As Clay suggested, traffic has been restricted, and those showing symptoms are being called into the imperial city."

"Approximately how many are suspected to be infected?"

"We haven't confirmed them all yet, but at the current rate, it looks to be around ten thousand."

Ten thousand. Considerable, but not much when considering the Empire's population density.

"According to the scholars, the disease itself isn't highly contagious, but because it can spread even during the incubation period, it's easy for it to propagate."

"They'd be walking around asymptomatic, that makes sense."

"Still, it's all thanks to Clay. How did you make the medicine in just one day? The scholars said it would be impossible."

"Ah, that is......."

As I laughed awkwardly, Riya gave me a strange look, then softly smiled.

"I'll let it slide since it must be a secret. But someday, you'll have to tell me, alright?"

"Alright. Thank you."

"I'm just repaying a debt, after all. My life is very precious, you know."

With a confident smile, Riya slowly turned her back to me.

"Never mind us. Focus on the Imperial Tournament, please. You know you have to make it to the finals, right?"

"I know. That's the basic qualification, isn't it?"

"Correct. Then I wish you luck, Count Clay Vanhart."

As I watched Riya's back after she finished speaking and walked away, a roar erupted from the coliseum.

[If you win today, the finals will be tomorrow, right?]

"That's right."

Originally, I had no intention of reaching the finals.

But obtaining Zenova required me to make it at least to the finals.

'In Fabian's timeline, the plague broke out once he reached the finals, and the Founding Festival was canceled, wasn't it?'

But that would not happen this time.

Besides......

'This will be his grave.'

* * *

"I send my praises to the heroes who have made this Founding Festival shine."

The Emperor of the Empire, Gideon Asktalin.

One of the Seven Heroes of the continent, and also considered the continent's greatest mage.

Only Soila Fran, the Tower Master, had skills rivaling Gideon's.

"I have especially high hopes for the four heroes who have made it to these semifinals."

The emperor's gaze went from Ian to me.

He stared at me as if observing a curious specimen.

[As one might expect of that girl's father. What a filthy look.]

'Don't be so crass.'

But just as Grancesia said, the emperor's gaze was as though dissecting me.

I didn't feel great either, but I couldn't complain to the Emperor of the Empire.

He looked away and continued his speech.

"To the hero who triumphs in the Imperial Tournament, I shall award not only a fitting prize but also an honorary title of the Empire."

I could not hide my surprise at his continued words.

An honorary title from the Asktalin Empire.

A reward far beyond my expectations.

"Then, for the people of the Empire, do show us a splendid match!"

With the emperor's shout, the four of us raised our swords in salute.

"Clay Vanhart, you tricked me before, but this time I'll expose your true skills."

After lowering his sword, Arsabin, a warrior from Darsha, glared at me with blazing eyes.

He still had not forgotten the humiliation of the first day.

[Seems he realizes you're not a Swordmaster?]

'Anyone with eyes would realize, if he watched my matches.'

Though I'd achieved a string of victories easily, that was largely thanks to the Hidden Star Sword.

Most in the audience might not notice, but someone of Arsabin's caliber would see right through it.

'Well, never mind Arsabin. The real problem is......'

The semifinals pitted Arsabin against me and Zelbin Ribina against Ian Sylvest.

'No matter how much of a genius Zelbin is, it'll be hard against Ian.'

Zelbin was a genius.

The rumors that he was as talented as Baian were not exaggerated.

But...... Ian Sylvest was an even greater monster.

"Clay Vanhart of the Kingdom of Talua! And Arsabin Hozen of the Kingdom of Darsha!"

At the judge's call, I stepped onto the now-familiar arena.

The first match was between me and Arsabin.

Arsabin hoisted his giant sword to his shoulder and glared at me.

"As I was humiliated before, this time I'll make you suffer the same fate."

"If you can, that is."

When I grinned and replied, Arsabin's face twisted, and he raised his sword upright.

"You arrogant wretch from Talua!"

At his outcry, the bell signaled the start.

Using the now-familiar Meteor Step, I closed the distance.

"Oooh! He's fast!"

The crowd cheered, but Arsabin scoffed.

"So, you're not a Swordmaster after all! You may be fast, but that's all!"

Arsabin had a tendency to obsess over stage.

Of course, stage does generally indicate strength.

But......

'The one who reaches a higher stage isn't necessarily the stronger one.'

I knew this better than anyone. Stage doesn't always determine victory or defeat.

Clang!

His sword tried to shove my blade aside, but its trajectory twisted peculiarly.

'Hidden Star Sword – Second Half, Second Technique: Rotation!'

A technique that uses the opponent's attack against them, delivering a counter stronger than your original blow.

That was Hidden Star Sword's Second Half, Second Technique: Rotation.

Thud!

"Urgh?!"

The tournament swords were dulled blades.

But still, it hurt to be struck—protected or not by magic power, the opponent was also using it, after all.

"You—!"

His magic power far exceeded mine.

Yet, ironically, my swordsmanship was superior to his.

'A side effect of forcibly enhancing his talent.'

Even if he'd trained steadily over time, Arsabin would have reached advance-rank Sword Expert soon enough.

But by forcibly raising his level through tonics and tricks, his swordsmanship lagged behind his physique.

On top of that, swept up in the thrill of his newfound power, Arsabin had grown neglectful of his swordsmanship—resulting in this situation.

I, on the other hand, was the opposite.

I thoroughly mastered the swordsmanship, but my body couldn't keep up.

'We're alike in that we both rose by shortcuts.'

If anything, my shortcut might be worse. My setting additions go so far as to deny the value of human effort.

But if there was a decisive difference between Arsabin and me, it was attitude.

He was arrogant; I was shameless.

I shamelessly made my gained abilities completely my own.

"Argh!"

He swung with desperation, but he was the only one getting hurt.

One blow, another, a third.

The longer it went, the more Arsabin's body was battered.

"How...... I should have reached the level of a great warrior......"

Arsabin staggered, gasping for breath. His body was purple with bruises, and blood slicked his lips.

My arms were numb from taking his blows, but that was all.

"When two cunning bastards fight......"

I gave him a faint smile.

"The more cunning bastard wins."

And there may be no one with a more cunning ability than me.

"Ugh, ja......."

With that, Arsabin crumpled. He appeared to have passed out from using all his strength.

"The w-winner, Clay Vanhart!"

Whether from shock at the one-sided match or something else, the judge's voice quivered.

A hush swept through the stands—but only for a moment.

Thunderous applause and cheers erupted.

"Waaaaah!"

"That's overwhelming! It truly is the land of knights!"

Amid the cheers, I looked at the statue I'd once seen before.

It seemed unchanged to the naked eye, but that was only superficially.

[It's true. Is it a curse or magic? The moment you won, gold light flickered and vanished on the sword.]

With her Eye of Insight, Grancesia had seen something fundamental.

Hearing her words, I finally relaxed.

'So the conditions are fulfilled.'

[Then do you really need to fight in the finals tomorrow?]

'Could I, when the people are expecting me like this?'

[Since when do you care about such things?]

Grancesia replied, sounding incredulous.

[There's another reason, isn't there?]

'...... Yeah.'

Honestly, my preparations were already complete.

Now, I just had to wait for tomorrow.

"Clay Vanhart."

The moment I left the arena, Ian Sylvest approached me. He looked me straight in the eyes and said calmly,

"I look forward to tomorrow's match."

"...... What?"

Without another word, he brushed past me and ascended to the arena.

He said only what he wanted, not even using polite language. All I could do was stare, dumbfounded at Ian's retreating figure.

"He really thinks his victory's assured."

[Of course he does. No matter how much of a genius Zelbin is, the skill gap's too large. For reference, you couldn't beat him either.]

"I know."

No matter how well I fought above my current stage, there was a limit. A Swordmaster was unbeatable for me, no matter what.

"Pity for Ian Sylvest... but it's not like we'll ever have to fight anyway."

[Didn't you just say you couldn't let the people of the Empire down?]

"No one will be disappointed."

I looked at the sword in the statue's hand—Zenova.

Honestly, I'd agonized over whether I deserved to wield that sword.

"I'm going to show something far more amazing."

The answer had been determined from the start.