“What do you mean by ‘It’s a bit’?”
Trale hesitated, trying to refuse my request.
“Well… it’s just that, Sir Julian, it’s not really the kind of place you’d enjoy.”
What on earth is she talking about?
“The lighting isn’t very bright, it’s gloomy… and it’s filled with the kind of barbaric people you despise.”
Exactly! I’m going there to see those barbaric people.
To hone my skills, even if just a little.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Despite my reassurance, Trale’s face hardened slightly.
She must really want to refuse.
I understand why.
The idea of me visiting the arena, or even just going there, is probably unappealing.
Julian is part of the ‘Closed Eyes.’ That means he’s an enforcer for the royal family, executing their will.
“Nobles often watch the arena too.”
The arena itself is legal, but most of what happens inside is illegal.
An enforcer of the royal family entering such a place? They would see it as an unwelcome intruder ruining their playground.
“I won’t cause you any trouble.”
“You’re already causing plenty of trouble…”
Her voice grew quieter, but she remained resolute this time.
“This time, I can’t allow it. If you keep insisting, I’ll have to take strong measures.”
Then I’ll have to respond accordingly.
“Trale, there’s a prison made of silver in the royal dungeons. Wouldn’t you like to visit it?”
As I spoke with a faint smile, a familiar color flashed across Trale’s face.
“S-silver?”
Just like in all media, vampires in this world also detest silver.
They also get burned by sunlight and can’t walk over running water.
“Do you really know all the weaknesses of a vampire…?”
“Yes, and I also know how to nullify that immortality.”
“Then you must also know that driving a wooden stake through the heart kills them…”
“Is that so? Would you like me to give it a try?”
She must have taken my words as a threat to do just that if she didn’t comply, as her violet eyes flared up fiercely.
But even if it’s not a vampire, wouldn’t driving a stake through someone’s heart kill them?
***
Whether it was my threat or something else, Trale ended up issuing me a membership card for the arena.
“Please, just don’t cause any trouble…”
She did make this request, though.
I have no intention of causing trouble.
I never have, and I never will.
The problem is the fuss made by those who see me and jump to conclusions.
“Sir Julian.”
As I approached the arena, someone came up to me and greeted me.
‘Who is this?’
Trale mentioned she’d send someone to guide me to the arena, and it seemed to be this man.
He had a familiar face.
What was his name again?
Oh, right! Bairon!
“Bairon, what are you doing here?”
He used to be part of ‘Six Fingers,’ one of the three factions in the slums, wasn’t he?
I heard his sentence was shortened thanks to cooperating with me earlier.
“I’m working at the arena now.”
“And the place you were before?”
‘Six Fingers’ is a place so vicious that they cut off your finger when you leave.
“Well… it seems that when I accompanied you to see the ‘vampire,’ rumors spread among ‘Six Fingers’ that I betrayed them.”
This is how Bairon, formerly a subordinate of ‘Six Fingers,’ ended up working for the ‘Blood Ghost Group.’
When he helped me enter the area managed by the ‘Blood Ghost Group,’ members of ‘Six Fingers’ saw him and spread rumors that he had betrayed them.
“I was shocked. Suddenly, they sent ‘Finger Cutters’ to chop off my fingers…”
“But you managed to survive.”
“Yes, fortunately, Sir Arthur happened to be passing by and saved me.”
Arthur? Ah, that giant of a man, about eight feet tall.
I think it’s fortunate he found a way to survive.
After all, he almost lost his job and position in ‘Six Fingers’ because of me.
…No, I shouldn’t feel sorry, should I?
Thinking about it, I gave him an opportunity to leave a criminal organization. I helped him turn over a new leaf.
And the ‘Blood Ghost Group’ has more conscience than ‘Six Fingers.’
“I’ll take the lead. Please follow me.”
With an energetic voice, Bairon began to guide me to the arena.
“But Sir Julian, why have you come here?”
“Is there any reason I shouldn’t come?”
At my response, Bairon flinched slightly.
“Haha… I just thought you might dislike this place.”
Dislike it…
That’s not entirely wrong.
Julian doesn’t prefer the environment of the arena, filled with the smell of sweat, due to his characteristic cleanliness.
But as I entered the arena, the fighting spirit filling the place made my whole body itch.
‘Yes! This is why I came. I think I’ve come to the right place.’
Even if it’s just a little, this is a process to refine my skills. Further…
‘My goal is to master the One-Stroke Skill.’
To do that, I need to learn not just ‘refinement’ but also ‘roughness.’
Julian’s swordsmanship, influenced by his innate personality and nature, possesses an almost artistic precision.
While great strength complements it, the swordsmanship itself follows traditional methods.
‘Compared to that, here in the arena, you can easily see fighters brimming with raw ferocity.’
The balance of yin and yang.
Even if it’s not something grand like that, I felt I needed to add something to my current swordsmanship.
“Sometimes, you need to see the opposite, the rough side.”
“The rough side… Ah, I see!”
Pondering my words, Bairon suddenly clapped his hands as if he realized something.
“Indeed, then you’ve come at a good time. The upcoming event at the arena will be perfect for the ‘roughness’ you’re looking for, Sir Julian.”
Bairon’s enthusiastic words piqued my curiosity.
“What kind of event is it?”
“They put 12 people in a giant arena and have them fight until only one remains standing!”
Ah, a battle royale.
“Look, there’s one of the main contenders for today’s main event.”
Bairon smiled broadly and pointed to a corner of the waiting room.
The waiting room was filled with darkness and tension from the fighters.
In the corner sat a man in heavy armor, exuding a ruthless fighting spirit and desire.
‘He’s strong.’
I couldn’t tell exactly how skilled he was, but the scent of blood emanating from him indicated he was far from ordinary.
“His name is Kagum, also known as the ‘Demon-Eating Madman.'”
“Demon-Eating Madman?”
“Yes, he lived in the north and supposedly survived by eating demons.”
Eating demons? While not unheard of, engaging in ‘demon consumption’ means accepting the residual thoughts of the demon into one’s body.
This inevitably leads to demonification.
‘He doesn’t seem like a named character.’
In the story, there are named characters who consume demons. But why are they ‘named’?
‘They are named because they don’t become demons after consuming them.’
In that sense, this man in heavy armor was someone I’d never seen before.
Is he a character I don’t know?
No, the name Kagum doesn’t ring any bells.
‘Still, he definitely looks strong.’
Seeing him wearing such heavy armor even casually, he likely engages in combat as tough as his appearance suggests.
Thinking that a fight with him might benefit my growth, our eyes met.
“Oh? He’s coming this way.”
Kagum stood up and began striding toward me.
Clank, clank.
With the sound of metal clashing, the giant in heavy armor approached.
Gulp.
As Kagum came closer, I could hear Bairon swallowing nervously beside me.
Did he get offended by the staring?
‘Checking his strength here wouldn’t be a bad idea.’
Although I couldn’t gauge his exact strength, it would be beneficial to experience it firsthand…
‘Huh?’
Something was strange.
Despite his imposing presence, I saw the color of ‘fear’ above Kagum’s head.
Was it just my imagination?
“Sir Julian, what brings you to a place like this?”
Guess not.
Through the thick steel helmet, a trembling voice reached me.
“What? Kagum, you can talk?”
The most surprised by this was Bairon.
“I heard he became a madman, losing his mind and craving blood after eating demons!”
“…If that were true, how would I have applied to the arena?”
Good point.
“And if I didn’t pay my taxes, I would have been expelled from the capital. If I were truly mindless, do you think I would be here?”
Kagum’s words, delivered with an unexpected intelligence, didn’t match Bairon’s excited reaction.
The madman who consumed demons turned out to be a model citizen.
***
“Now, please wear this.”
Just before entering the arena, Bairon handed me a mask, explaining that it’s a basic rule for the audience here.
Being a place run by those from the slums, the noble patrons likely wished to conceal their identities.
Still…
…It feels familiar somehow.
The act of wearing a mask is oddly familiar. It’s probably because of my time acting as the ‘Black Knight.’
“Oh… it suits you well, Sir Julian. Now, please enter.”
As I stepped into the arena, just as Bairon said, all the spectators wore masks, concealing their faces.
Though their expressions couldn’t be seen, the intense heat from the excited audience could be felt through my skin.
“Normally, someone of your stature, Sir Julian, should be seated in the VIP section…”
“It’s fine. I want to watch as closely as possible.”
Leaving the apologetic Bairon behind, I looked around.
‘Indeed, the crowd is making me quite uncomfortable.’
My obsessive cleanliness was acting up again. The large crowd was very bothersome. The less-than-clean hygiene didn’t help either.
‘If I endure this discomfort and gain nothing from it…’
That alone would double my annoyance.
– “Thank you for waiting! Today’s main event!”
The saving grace was that I had confirmed the presence of ‘Kagum,’ a fighter who matched my purpose for being here.
– “First up, the favorite to win, the ‘Demon-Eating Madman’ Kagum!!!”
Just by looking at him, I could tell he was a formidable opponent. Kagum’s body was well-trained.
His breathing and posture hinted that he could also handle aura to some extent.
Uwaaaaaaaa!
A tremendous cheer erupted, filling the arena. The audience seemed certain that Kagum would win the battle royale.
“Who do you think will win, Sir Julian?” Bairon asked.
I also think it will be Kagum.
Unless there’s someone among the other 11 contestants with skills on par with Kagum’s.
As I thought this, I glanced around the arena.
‘Hmm…?’
Surprisingly, I spotted a familiar face inside the arena.
Gray hair and unfocused eyes, as if afflicted by cataracts.
Seeing that face, a surge of fighting spirit welled up from deep within me.
“Did you ask who I think will win?”
“Ah, yes.”
“I think that man will win.”
“That middle-aged man over there?”
At my gesture, Bairon looked towards the corner of the arena.
There, a middle-aged man was moving towards the waiting area, tapping the ground with a wooden cane.
“That blind man? I find it hard to believe such a person is even participating in this arena…”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
Though Bairon was filled with doubt, he simply nodded and looked back at the arena.
My gaze remained fixed on that middle-aged man.
‘Blind Swordsman Jahat.’
One of the top fighters in the world of <Let’s Kill the Demon Lord>.
Seeing his face, Julian’s fighting spirit seemed to rise, indicating that he knew Jahat as well.
It made sense. Jahat also lived on the northern front, so they likely had some acquaintance.
I, however, was focused on him for a different reason.
More precisely, he was Julian’s ‘senior disciple.’
Because he trained under the same master as the Sword Saint, Hayden Reich.
Cliche Novel 