novelraw Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Pivelia is divided into a total of 5 districts.
Districts 1 and 2, seized by Red Bell.
District 3, governed by the Grimter Faction.
Districts 4 and 5, swallowed up by Revolt.
Among them, Feyr headed toward District 3, governed by the Grimter Faction.
Upon arriving at District 3, the heavily rusted entrance came into view.
'Is this the place.'
The place once called the last conscience of Pivelia.
Feyr made his way toward the main gate—the only entrance—to get inside.
As he drew near the entrance, the gatekeepers who had been standing there moved to block him and raised their guard.
"Hey, hold on. Who are you? Never seen you before."
"Same. What's your business here?"
The men were openly showing hostility toward Feyr.
It was a reaction that clearly revealed their nature—wariness of outsiders.
Feyr understood their reaction well enough, so he made no move.
He simply raised both hands and spoke.
"Relax. I'm just here to see a friend. And to do a little shopping while I'm at it."
At the word 'friend,' one of the gatekeepers furrowed his brow.
It was because no one came to mind.
"We didn't receive any word about that."
"Ah, not that kind of friend—a literal, actual friend."
"What?"
No matter how he thought about it, this guy was suspicious.
Feyr knew he would appear that way to them, so he added more flesh to his words.
"I met someone called Murk outside not long ago....... You might know him?"
‘They'll know.’
The Grimter Faction has a comparatively small population next to other organizations.
Because of that, most people at least have a passing familiarity with one another.
In other words, they'd have at least heard the name.
As if Feyr's guess had hit the mark, the gatekeeper beside the one he'd been talking to piped up with a look of recognition.
"You're a friend of that guy Murk?"
"That's right. He told me to come by District 3 sometime, so I figured I'd swing by since I needed to buy something anyway."
"Ah, really? ......So that guy's inviting friends over."
The gatekeeper muttered to himself briefly over Feyr's story, then nodded.
He seemed to have his doubts, but surprisingly, he appeared to have been satisfied.
Feyr, too, found the gatekeeper's last murmur sitting uneasily in the back of his mind—but for now, he figured it was something that would be resolved once he met Murk.
"Hmm, alright. I'll let you in for now. But there's a condition."
"A condition?"
At the word 'condition,' Feyr's eyes narrowed.
The gatekeeper reached into the inside of his coat and pulled out a necklace, then handed it to Feyr.
"Just in case—wearing this before you go in is the condition."
After briefly examining the necklace he'd been handed, Feyr was able to figure out the gatekeeper's intention in giving it to him.
"A necklace enchanted with a location-tracking spell?"
"Impressive. That's right."
The gatekeeper's voice carried a tone of admiration at Feyr's sharp eye.
Feyr shrugged and put the necklace around his neck.
"As a condition for letting me in, this is fair enough. No other conditions?"
"Don't cause trouble inside. Oh, and that necklace won't come off unless we remove it ourselves."
"Sounds like it's got a binding spell on it too."
"That's right."
‘Where on earth did they get a necklace like that?’
Truly, all sorts of things circulated through the back alleys.
'Well...... but that's exactly why I can get what I need here without any fuss.'
Feyr chuckled softly, let out a deep sigh, and spoke once more.
"Don't worry. I'll be on my best behavior and head out."
"Yeah, alright. Sure."
The gatekeepers cleared the path they'd been blocking and opened the way for Feyr.
Feyr walked through the opened path and soon entered the interior of the Grimter Faction's District 3.
The interior landscape of District 3 was something that could only be called an underground city.
It was, in fact, built in a place where a large underground tunnel had been dug, so calling it an underground city was entirely fitting.
'I believe this place was originally meant to be a mine.'
Not that it mattered—as long as it didn't collapse, that was enough.
Regardless of the backstory, Feyr began walking to take care of the business that had brought him here.
The reasons Feyr had come to this place were 2 in total.
1 was to bring Murk over to his side, and the other was to resolve the Blood Submission.
If his memory was correct, Murk was currently here within District 3's Grimter Faction territory.
'That guy, at this point, would be out begging.'
That was right.
The beginning of the man who would come to be called the King of the Underworld started from the wretched life of a beggar.
The detailed circumstances were something Feyr didn't know.
He had neither wanted to know nor been able to find out.
But the one piece of information Feyr did hold as truth was that his beginnings were as a beggar.
And that was information that would be useful in the present moment.
'But.'
He wasn't going to go look for Murk right away.
Going to find Murk now would be pointless—he had no bait to draw the man in.
'What would be the point of going to a beggar empty-handed.'
He needed to bring at least something to offer.
On top of that, resolving the Blood Submission would require quite a bit of money as well.
In truth, this was the bigger reason than the one before.
He could win Murk over one way or another.
But the materials needed to dissolve the Blood Submission cost quite a bit.
'I also need to prepare more before entering the forest.'
The knights order would handle the supply side on their end.
But he'd need to make some personal preparations as well.
That way he could squeeze out at least one more gain from this.
'I didn’t volunteer for this for nothing.'
It wasn't for nothing that he put off the chance to break through the 4th Star Tier wall and signed up for this instead.
He'd take everything he could get out of this place.
To do that, he'd need to do everything he could right now.
'If I'm going to get money here, there's only one place.'
The blood-soaked arena—the Bloody Arena.
An arena that every faction in Pivelia could participate in, and uniquely, outsiders were allowed to join only through the Grimter Faction in District 3.
The format was very simple.
Gladiators were thrown into a circular arena and made to fight until only 1 remained.
And when that last 1 person stood, it was over.
Ultimately, it was a battle royal format that continued until only 1 person was left.
It was something all too familiar to Feyr.
The scale and the level of the participants were unknown quantities—but 1 thing was certain: the more participants there were, the greater the reward.
'I'd like there to be a lot of participants.'
Hopefully he could gather his target sum in a single run.
If not, he'd have to enter multiple times.
Feyr gripped the sword at his hip and headed toward his destination—the Bloody Arena.
And to his surprise, a considerable crowd had gathered there.
Those hoping to participate, those who came to watch, and those who came just to pick up whatever scraps might fall their way.
It was a truly chaotic scene.
'Not bad.'
With a crowd this size, even 1 victory would be more than enough money.
But why had so many people gathered here?
'No idea. Works for me.'
Feyr shrugged and did nothing more than add his name to the participant roster.
Time passed, and as participant recruitment was drawing to a close—
"Alright, alright! Is that all you lot who are about to batter each other senseless?"
A man who appeared to be in charge of running this place called down from above the arena stands.
"Listen up, participants! We've got a rough headcount, so all you lot just need to go in the participants' waiting room over there until we get started. Cause any trouble and you're instantly disqualified—remember that!"
With that, he said his piece and promptly disappeared.
He seemed to be a busy man.
Given that everyone here had gathered to fight, would order even hold without any control?
The thought crossed Feyr's mind for a moment, but contrary to expectations, they made their way to the waiting room in an orderly fashion.
At most, it was nothing more than a clash of egos.
'This is definitely strange.'
Even in ordinary tournaments, without any control, people tend to snarl at each other.
But these individuals shared relationships that were essentially always at each other's throats.
And yet, despite being on the verge of a clash, they were being this well-behaved.
'Whatever it is.'
He couldn't let his guard down.
Feyr composed himself and joined the line of others moving toward the waiting room.
After waiting briefly in the packed waiting room, the sound of a voice calling for the participants drifted in from outside—
And with that, all the participants surged out together, and the spectators looking down from the stands came into view.
Feyr, who had been half-crammed between others, finally managed to break free and catch his breath.
'Ugh...... nearly died there.'
He hadn't expected there to be this many people.
The number of participants was even greater than what Feyr had estimated at a glance.
Perhaps because of that.
Figures who could be called true powerhouses—ones he hadn't spotted before—began appearing in Feyr's field of view one by one.
'What are those guys?'
Were they always here, or did they come in after I signed up?
It didn't matter either way.
The only certainty was that 1 of them was affiliated with Red Bell, and the other with Revolt.
'Now I understand why so many people showed up.'
Even at a glance, it was clear those 2 were top-tier figures from their respective factions.
With them stepping into the arena, how could it not ignite interest?
But then—what had brought those 2 to enter the arena?
'Obvious.'
Going at each other between factions meant both sides would have to accept bleeding losses.
But maintaining this cold war as it stood wasn't satisfying either—so they were mimicking war in this form instead.
Of course, that didn't mean other participants of the same affiliation would go out of their way to assist their faction's representative.
Those guys hadn't come here to help their faction. They'd come purely to take what was in it for themselves.
'Well, regardless.......'
Once those 2 are dealt with, the rest will be easy.
Neither of the 2 looked like much of a challenge.
Being straightforward about it—at their current level, they appeared to be roughly twice his age, while their Mana was only slightly higher than his.
The caliber of the organizations splitting the underworld in 2 was pathetically low.
'Should I just take them over?'
Just as Feyr was entertaining that idle thought—
"Alright, sorry for the long wait. We had way more participants than expected, so it took a while to put the list together—bear with us."
The man from earlier relayed his voice across the arena using a magic tool enchanted with an amplification spell from the announcer's platform.
He was lax, yet managed both operations and announcing.
Truly a busy fellow.
"All 89 participants know roughly how this goes, right? Last 1 standing wins, and the prize for this round is......."
The announcer snapped his fingers, and flames flickered to life in the air.
Judging by the gloves he was wearing, that too appeared to be a magic tool.
Regardless, the flames that flickered in the air soon swelled up large—
And from them, the shape of a coin and a number took form.
"20 gold coins."
20 gold coins.
It was certainly a large sum to be thrown around in the back alleys.
'Even selling drugs wouldn't generate gold coin amounts.'
More than that—taking the heads of all 88 people here and hauling them in still wouldn't fetch even 5 gold coins.
And yet the prize was 20 gold coins.
It seemed that this bit of entertainment held considerable meaning to these people.
'Pathetic.'
‘Tch.’
Feyr clicked his tongue and wrapped his hand around the hilt of the sword at his hip.
A seasoned hunter always prepared 1 step ahead of everyone else.
As the murmuring of the others rose, the announcer spoke up again.
"Alright, alright. Save your surprise for later, folks. Those placing bets, place your bets. It's time for the real fighting now. Hey, draw your weapons. We're about to get started."
As the announcer moved to signal the start, every single person standing on the stage drew their weapon in unison.
And so, just as all were waiting for it to begin—
Crack!
"Kugh!"
Before the signal to start, a heavy burst and a scream rang out.
Someone had struck first before it had even begun.
"How long did you think I was going to let you keep me waiting?"
The Red Bell man had brought the flat of his large battle axe down on the head of one of the participants.
His preemptive strike was the spark. The participants who had been still began sizing each other up, then one by one let out battle cries and swung the weapons in their hands.
The battle axe man glanced over at the announcer, whose expression was one of disbelief, and snorted derisively.
Then he turned his gaze toward his rival from Revolt.
But—
'Hm?'
Why is that bastard's head rolling across the floor?
The only one in this place who could kill that guy should be me?
Strange.
Just as that thought was crossing his mind—
Swoosh!
"Ugh?!"
Clang clang clang!
Feyr, who had come in low, slashed upward from below toward the battle axe.
Thanks to its large size, the battle axe avoided a fatal blow—but the diagonal arc of the blade meant losing the right eye was unavoidable.
"Y-you little—!"
Having lost his right eye, the battle axe man readjusted his grip and swept his massive battle axe horizontally like a sweeping blow.
Feyr ducked to dodge the attack and then kicked the flat of the axe with a kick loaded with Mana.
Thunk!
It was a child's kick—but with Mana behind it, the force was considerable.
The axe flew up above his head, and Feyr didn't let the opening sit idle.
Shhk—
"Ugh, kgh. Well, this...... damn."
Thud.
The battle axe man crumpled to the floor just like that.
The troublesome ones were taken care of.
All that was left now was to lay low for a bit, clean up the remaining stragglers, and claim the victory.