Chapter 32: The True Price of a Life
Chapter 32: The True Price of a Life
Renji’s entire life flashed before his eyes in a single, agonizing second.
He saw his impoverished childhood on the lawless streets, his endless years of swinging a wooden sword until his hands bled, his rise to fame as the undefeated Lion of Empyrium, and finally, the massive, bare hand of Vhal’zhar hovering a mere fraction of a millimeter above his forehead. The sheer kinetic shockwave had carved a massive trench through the solid granite behind him, but his skin remained miraculously unmarred.
Renji’s heart dropped into an abyss of cold, paralyzing terror. He sat frozen on his knees, his chest heaving, his vision blurring at the edges as hyperventilation took hold.
Vhal’zhar slowly retracted his hand, cracking his knuckles with a dull, heavy thud. He looked down at the trembling champion with eyes that held no more interest than one would give a stray pebble on the road.
"You are remarkably fortunate, mortal," Vhal’zhar murmured, his low voice carrying directly into Renji’s ringing ears. "My Master ordered me to stay my hand."
Renji’s breath caught in his throat. His blood ran instantly cold.
M-Master...? Renji’s mind shrieked in absolute disbelief. This monster... this entity that halted my absolute strike with a fingernail and split the stadium with a wave of his hand... is merely a servant?! What kind of incomprehensible god commands a monster like this?!
The sheer weight of that realization crushed whatever was left of Renji’s conscious mind. His eyes rolled back into his head, his body swaying forward before he collapsed face-first onto the red sand, passing out completely from sheer nervous exhaustion.
Vhal’zhar didn't glance back at the unconscious swordsman. He casually leaned down, picked up Renji’s black katana by its cloth-wrapped hilt, and slung it over his shoulder as if it were nothing more than a firewood stick.
Across the Colosseum, fifty thousand spectators sat in dead, suffocating silence. The dust slowly drifted down, settling over the destroyed arena floor. Nobody dared to speak. Nobody dared to breathe. The raw display of unadulterated physical might had shattered their understanding of combat entirely.
Up on her brass platform, the blonde commentator’s hands trembled so violently she nearly dropped her magic microphone. She swallowed hard, her mouth completely dry, as she forced her voice out in a cracked, stuttering gasp.
"T-Th... The... The winner of this match... is Vhal’zhar!"
Her voice echoed hollowly across the stone arches. There was no grand burst of cheering, no frantic waving of banners, and no fanatical chants. A few scattered, hesitant claps broke out from the upper rows, but they were quickly drowned out by the heavy, suffocating awe that gripped the arena. The audience stared at Vhal’zhar as if looking at an ancient calamity incarnate.
Ignoring the silence, ignoring the terrified stares, Vhal’zhar turned his back on the crowd and walked toward the northern VIP balcony with slow, deliberate steps. With an effortless leap, his body blurred through the air, clearing thirty feet of height in a single bound before landing silently on the polished marble floor of Mayor Rigid’s terrace.
"So," Vhal’zhar said smoothly, his gaze locking onto Mayor Rigid, "it seems the terms of our contract are changing, yes?"
Saint Solenne offered a warm, gentle smile, stepping forward slightly. "Indeed, Mister Vhal’zhar. Mayor Rigid has wisely agreed to spare his loyal bodyguard in exchange for a revised set of concessions."
Vhal’zhar tilted his head, shifting his gaze toward Rael, who sat quietly in the shadows with a cup of tea in his hand.
A split second later, a private thread of mana vibrated in Vhal’zhar’s consciousness as Rael sent a direct sound transmission.
[Vhal... pass the final concession to Saint Solenne. We placed her freedom on the line for this wager, so consider this her compensation.]
Vhal’zhar gave an almost imperceptible nod. Clearing his throat, he turned back to the Saint and the pale, sweating Mayor.
"Ehem. Very well then," Vhal’zhar declared loudly. "For the final term of this revised contract... I desire something more than mere coin or physical treasure. I shall bestow the right to name the final condition entirely to Saint Solenne."
Mayor Rigid let out a long, defeated sigh, his fat shoulders slumping forward as if he had aged ten years in ten seconds. "As you wish, sir... whatever you desire. Is there anything else?"
Vhal’zhar casually pulled a chair back and sat down, resting Renji’s black katana across his lap. "No. This sword, and the ancient blade you promised from your vault earlier, will suffice for me."
Saint Solenne blinked in genuine surprise. She turned her head slightly, offering a subtle, questioning glance toward Rael. Sitting quietly in his bodyguard facade, Rael gave her a subtle, reassuring nod.
A soft, radiant smile bloomed across Solenne’s face. She bowed her head gracefully toward Vhal’zhar. "Then I shall humbly accept this extremely generous gift from Mister Vhal’zhar."
Solenne turned her gaze back to Mayor Rigid. The gentle warmth in her eyes instantly vanished, replaced by an absolute, cold authority that stunned everyone present.
"My condition is simple, Mayor Rigid," Solenne said, her melodic voice carrying an unyielding weight. "From this day forth, I demand your absolute, unwavering political support. No matter how the political winds shift, and no matter what pressure you face... you will never, under any circumstances, betray or turn against me. Even if an explicit decree comes down directly from a Prince... or the King himself."
The VIP balcony fell into an icy quiet. The surrounding guards held their breath, pretending to be statues and that only rael, saint solenne, vespara, mayor rigid and vhal’zhar. In that vip there is no other noble, the other noble are in other vip balcony.
Mayor Rigid’s eyes bulged in utter shock. "S-Saint... are you truly serious?!" he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.
Standing silently behind Solenne, Rael’s sharp mind instantly pieced the political landscape together. So that's how it is, Rael deduced silently. The Church of Light's influence is being systematically pressured and devoured by the Royal Family. Solenne isn't just a holy figurehead, she’s actively building a network of political allies to defend her faction.
Mayor Rigid bit his lip until a bead of blood appeared. He was backed into an absolute corner. To refuse meant breaking the soul-bound contract and dying in unbearable agony right here on the balcony. Furthermore, as greedy and ruthless as Rigid was, Renji was more than just a powerful asset to him, he was a fixture of his life, a loyal shadow who had protected him from countless assassination attempts over the years. Deep down, a genuine, buried bond existed between the tyrant and his bodyguard.
"F-Fine...!" Mayor Rigid gritted his teeth, slumping into his velvet armchair in complete defeat. "I... Mayor Rigid... agree to these altered terms!"
Saint Solenne raised her hand, her pale fingers glowing with a faint, holy aura as she finalized the magic. "I, Solenne, accept these revised conditions. Mayor Rigid shall act as my absolute political supporter, aiding me in my struggles without betrayal, regardless of royal decrees. Do you accept this binding?"
"I accept!" Rigid spat out desperately.
Instantly, the crimson runes floating in the air flared with brilliant light before collapsing into a single beam of energy. The light slammed into Mayor Rigid’s right hand, searing a small, intricate star-shaped tattoo deep into his palm. The mark burned with a faint red glow before fading beneath his skin.
Saint Solenne received no mark, as she was the sole beneficiary of the contract.
"The revision is complete," Solenne announced softly, her holy demeanor instantly returning as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Rael watched the intricate flow of soul magic with fascinating curiosity. An absolute, soul-bound contract that physically marks the submitting party... fascinating. I'll have to ask Solenne about the underlying mana matrices later when we are away from prying eyes.
Desperate to end the humiliating ordeal, Mayor Rigid snapped his fingers violently toward his head servant standing by the curtain. "You idiot! Bring it out! NOW!"
The servant scurried forward frantically, bowing so low his nose nearly touched the floorboards. In his trembling hands, he carried a long, velvet-lined mahogany box decorated with silver filigree.
The servant opened the latch, revealing an exquisite, ancient weapon resting on silk cushions. The sheath was carved from dark ironwood, wrapped in silver wire, and oozed a faint, heavy pressure that chilled the air in the balcony.
"H-Here is your reward, sir," Mayor Rigid stammered, gesturing toward the box. "The legendary blade from my vault... the Man-Slayer Katana. And the weapon you took from Renji... is known as the God-Slayer Katana."
Saint Solenne let out a light, musical giggle, covering her mouth with her sleeve. "'God-Slayer'? Is that truly what you call it, Mayor? From what I have heard from scholars, it is nothing more than a notoriously cursed blade that drives its wielders to madness."
Mayor Rigid cleared his throat nervously, his face flushing red. "E-Ehem! I beg your forgiveness, Saint Solenne! The name is admittedly a bit exaggerated... merely a dramatic title used by merchants to drum up enthusiasm among buyers!"
While they spoke, Rael shifted his gaze toward the two weapons resting before Vhal’zhar.
Rael’s eyes flickered with a subtle, golden light as his passive evaluation abilities pierced through the mundane physical reality. He saw past the polished wood, past the silver wire, and past the crude surface enchantments.
Deeper within the steel of both the "Man-Slayer" and the "God-Slayer," dormant ancient runes of terrifying, god-like proportions pulsed like twin black hearts, waiting for a worthy master to awaken their true, latent potential.
A small, satisfied smile formed on Rael’s lips.
God-Slayer, huh? Rael thought, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the VIP box. For once... that foolish Mayor didn't actually lie.
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