Volume 5, Chapter 4 – The Tournament. The Meat Grinder
Five hours later.
I jumped up sharply from the bed — Guya was sitting at the edge, staring at the wall, mechanically filling page after page like a conveyor belt.
I felt no wounds — they weren't there. (But how long did I sleep? And this is hardly just "healed.")
Seeing Guya, my face changed as I remembered what I'd said before passing out.
"Guya..." I said — and she turned her head sharply, without moving her torso. I jumped off the bed from the jumpscare.
"Forgive me..." I said through my racing heart and fear.
Guya said nothing — but a sheet of paper flew at me, reading: "[I] Come back to me, Hur Abi, it hurts. Come back! Come back! (Written across the whole sheet)."
(That looks terrifying — like I broke a person.)
I ran up and squeezed Guya tightly in my arms, tears starting to flow, while she kept churning out sheet after sheet like a machine, even as I hugged her.
"It's okay... It's okay..." I repeated, trying to squeeze her hard enough to stop her from thinking about it and to feel pain, to snap back to reality — but apparently my strength wasn't enough to stop this killing machine with such weak physical effort.
(I could leave her here, after everything she'd done — just walk away, having broken her. For any state opposing the Empire, I'd be a star. But I've grown so used to physical pain — maybe Uyana trained me with her constant tooth-knocking — that I don't care what happened to me or how I healed. Guya is far worse off than I am right now.)
(One... One time is allowed. Just once.)
Sharp slap across Guya's cheek.
Didn't help...
(Two times. I'm not hitting a woman — I'm restoring her...)
Sharp slap — Sharp slap.
"Sorry, Guya..." — and I remembered. "— I know that name."
(Because I brought him back from the Silent Silence to Rekhilon, to his sister. What a bastard — I'd punch his face right now.)
"Wh-what? You kn-know??" Guya stopped writing and just accepted my embrace.
"Yeah..." — I kept hugging her.
(But why do they say he died in a tavern if I actually pulled him out of the Silent Silence? That's strange... But what difference does it make — the main thing is she came back to herself.)
Guya pushed me onto the bed, and we lay facing each other on our sides. I looked into her red, pulsing eyes, while she stared at me in shock, trying to understand what I knew about her husband.
"Were you at his funeral?" Guya asked quietly.
"No... He was in the Silent Silence," I answered quietly — but Guya suddenly shoved me off the bed, slamming me into the nightstand — and I caught a huge folder with my face.
"Don't lie to me! You idiot, lying at a moment like this!"
"I'm not lying..."
"Of course, how could I believe a man who's just trying to save himself from me. Idiot!"
I started rubbing my forehead from the pain — and a sensation hit my head like I'd eaten a huge chunk of ice cream.
"He's alive. In Rekhilon."
Guya jumped up, summoning the massive hammer to her hand and pulling the pins from her hair, pressing them against the metal of the hammer.
"One more lie, and there'll be nothing left of you. Literally!" she shouted — her fringe had long since soaked with tears and parted, revealing her big, desperate eyes.
"His sister's tavern..." — I gave in from fear, instinctively shielding my head from the hammer.
Guya crushed my leg to dust with the hammer — and spasms of agony ran through my body, along with something else that made me choke and clutch at my neck, feeling suffocation.
"He didn't have a sister!" — Guya turned my second leg to dust.
"Wheeze" — my eyes filled with blood, an invisible hangman's knot tightened around my neck, pulsations ran through my whole body, veins bursting one after another, igniting everything around them.
"— h.....e............'s........................a.........l.........i.........v.........e......" — I forced out through the suffocation, choking, my face going pale — I couldn't feel my legs, couldn't feel my arms, only my heart, about to burst.
I lost consciousness.
Guya lowered the hammer, fixed her hair, and surveyed the tent.
"Zak!" she called — and a man with silver hair materialized at the entrance, kneeling.
"Funririya, I'm listening carefully," he said without moving.
"Heal this boy and check all the taverns in Rekhilon. Name — Hur Abi. Execute," she sat back on the bed, almost at the edge because of her voluminous skirt.
Zak stood up and began whispering a spell — lines of blood formed around me, pulsing through the entire tent, emanating from him.
"And what about the Emperor... I saw him making a deal with the Democracy," Zak asked in passing.
Guya didn't react, watching the healing process.
And Guya smiled, as much as her lips allowed.
"This guy said he knows about the Democracy... Let's see what he's capable of," Guya watched the healing with a smile.
The blood lines completely covered the tent — and with a sharp kick, everything flew into my body, filling it and pushing my legs out from my torso, slowly growing back to normal size.
I jumped up sharply, gasping full lungs of air and coughing heavily afterward. My eyes darted around the tent, taking in the same interior and the same Guya sitting on the bed. I felt my bare legs — my toes clenched, everything was felt, as if new ones had been installed. (But what happened??)
(I should probably cut contact with Guya. That was a terrifying sight. I feel sorry for her, of course, but I worry about myself even more — I don't want to live on the edge right now.)
"I'll g—"
"Mouth. I'm talking now."
"But I—"
"MOUTH!" — Guya grabbed my neck lightning-fast and lifted me above her.
I instinctively grabbed her arm, trying to break free, dangling my new legs above the ground.
"You're alive only because I haven't checked the taverns yet. Once I'm convinced you're lying, you'll die."
She threw me into a table piled with papers — I crashed through it, breaking everything and sinking into the papers.
(I see... I'm becoming someone who can't stand up for himself... Why again? Why can't I get up and fight back — I live from protection to protection, and now, when I have no protection, I can't even survive a day. Shame...)
"Screw you!" I shouted, getting up from the wreckage of the table. "Your husband hid everything from—"
"SHUT UP!" — she slapped me hard with the back of her hand.
"Everything from you. Even—"
Hit.
"Your sister. I'm even— HIT —silent that he married— Hit-hit —another."
I spat blood while Guya beat my face blow after blow, tooth for tooth. (Is hitting women bad? If she wants to kill you — no.) And I drove the rapier blade into her stomach and grabbed her hair sharply, landing blow after blow to her face.
"Do you even underst— spit blood —what it's like to be weak?" — I hammered her face with heavy, exhausted blows.
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" — I headbutted her face. "You don't get it. You were born a mage — I dealt with cancer," — the blows were already from despair. I tried to hit so she'd at least feel something of my pain — but her magical protection absorbed absolutely every blow, and a calm little face looked back at me, one I couldn't break with my fists.
"No one... Gets it..." — I threw her to the ground and walked toward the tent exit, toward the tournament.
I walked past people slowly, with some kind of anger toward everyone. (I'll become strong, and only to myself will I prove that I'm truly strong. None of these people will understand why I'm doing this, why all of this. Only I know. I'll get through this tournament, beat every officer, probably cry when we meet — but I'll reach the top and lose to the Lady, if that's what it takes.)
(Ha-ha! The guy decided to work as a plow) (Ooooh! It's that guy from B who bet on himself) (Ha-ha. Looks like he bet he could plow a hectare with his face) (HA-HA-HA! No-no, he bet he'd become a whetstone for swords) (Ha-ha, no-no, he's just getting into the role of a punching bag) (For sure, this guy was late to the top-16 too, just got scared, and now he's going to cry in purgatory)
—
—
I entered the pyramid.
[Norn: Oh, Khlorun, look — Seraphim's here.]
[Khlorun: Apparently he rested enough. Next time we should tell him not to beat himself up.]
[Norn: Ha-ha. Exactly. Seraphim. The Purgatory fights are at night — right now it's A-rank fights.]
I looked at two participants crossing swords. (Well then... Two on one.)
I ran up and kicked one participant with both feet, immediately parrying the second one's strike.
[Norn: Is that legal?]
[Khlorun: Don't be a buzzkill. It's a tournament. We're commentators, not judges.]
I threw a flurry of blows at the first. The second tried to hit me from behind — I shielded myself with the first fighter, and the second stabbed through him. I pushed the first into him and impaled both at once, spinning the skewer into a neck strike.
[Khlorun: NOW THAT'S a spectacle! Ladies and gentlemen, that was truly WOW! Seraphim beat two A-ranks in thirty seconds!]
[Norn: That was beautiful, but probably not legal.]
[Khlorun: Come on, he advanced to A. I remember — yeah, he beat everyone in B.]
[Norn: But. He has Purgatory.]
[Khlorun: Yeah, dude — it's way more interesting watching him fight normal fighters than watching him stand still.]
I pulled my rapier from the bodies, and the participants were carried out of the pyramid.
(I'll reach S.) A healer patched up my face, and a giant entered the field — fully clad in steel. At least three meters tall, holding a five-meter two-handed sword.
[Khlorun: Let the spectacle begin. Fight!]
I took three steps back, slinging the rapier over my shoulder like a spear. And with a shout, I ran toward him, jumping, throwing the rapier into the eye slit of his helmet.
Clang.
I jumped onto him, driving the rapier to the maximum until it met steel at the back of his head.
[Khlorun: Well then. The cupboard fell louder than ever. TEN SECONDS!]
[Norn: Beautiful. This Seraphim doesn't respect classic fencing duels.]
[Khlorun: Yeah. Completely agree — but what difference does it make when it brings him his third A-rank win?!]
[Khlorun: Yeah! Archon! Release everyone from the fifteenth A division. Why are we twiddling our thumbs!]
[Norn: Hold your horses, because—]
"Release them!" I shouted, pulling the rapier from the giant's head.
[Khlorun: NOW THAT'S A CHARGE! Did you hear that? He's ready to fight ten remaining A fighters at once!]
[Norn: Looks like showing off.]
[Khlorun: Looks like a SPECTACLE! Release EVERYONE! You didn't mishear — EVERY fighter in the fifteenth division to the arena!]
And ten fighters rushed onto the arena.
[Norn: And what are the rules?]
[Khlorun: We're not judges. But by the rules, one must remain on the arena. It doesn't say anything about the number.]
Ten fighters stood by the wall, each at a distance from the others. I stood in the center on a mountain. (No doubts — only the desire to finish A faster and reach my family in S, and see the Lady personally.)
[Norn: Fight.]
The participants started attacking whoever was closest to them, fighting each other. I rushed at fighter 1, slamming him into the wall with my shoulder and substituting him in the fencing with fighter 2. Fighter 2 dodged my lunge, bounced off the wall, and landed behind me. I impaled fighter 1 as he started to rise, kicked fighter 2 in the stomach, spun sharply and struck fighter 1 again against the wall, making a deep lunge and impaling the second.
Mid-lunge, my side was pierced with a sword — fighter 3. I pulled the rapier and threw it backward, sending it at full speed into his face. Fighter 3's grip weakened, and, pulling out his sword, I parried fighter 4's strike from behind me. While fighter 3 was staggering back, fighter 5 cut off his head and used it as a springboard to impale me.
I swept "4" and pulled him onto myself, catching "5"'s sword with his body — as soon as he landed on "4"'s back and tried to impale me, a crossbow bolt from "6" flew into him, completely blowing off his head.
"6" walked up to me, throwing off the corpse — and as soon as he did, I cut off his legs, and "7" finished him off.
I quickly got up, holding my side, and looked around. Only two of us remained — both completely covered in blood, surrounded by corpses.
[Khlorun: This is just a brain explosion! I can't even keep up with the commentary. Like being in an S-rank meat grinder!]
We crossed swords. It was clear we were both exhausted. Someone else's blood covered us head to toe, pouring into our eyes.
He released the pressure of his sword, and I stumbled back, quickly kicking him. He grabbed my leg, letting go of his sword, and spun with all his might, making me lose my footing and drop my weapon.
I collapsed to the ground, and he sat on top of me, starting to smash my face with brass knuckles, knocking out teeth. I tried to strangle him and drove my index fingers into his eyes — and under our mutual screams, I pierced his eyes, making him weaken his blows — and, grabbing a sword, I drove it into his neck.
I lay on the ground as a powerful stream from the fighter's neck sprayed onto me, and he slowly collapsed to the ground, driving the blade deeper under his own weight.
[Norn: A primal meat grinder. But now we see what Seraphim is capable of. Viewers, we have our winner of the seventeenth division. And now the top-16 A fight awaits him.]
[Khlorun: I'm out of breath from commentating that... The final was exceptionally unique — it looked like a fight between two cornered cats. But now Seraphim has a two-hour break.]
About thirty people had already gathered in the stands, clapping loudly and whistling.
(Seraphim! Seraphim! Seraphim! Seraphim!)
(Hypocrisy of the crowd... Tsk — just a moment ago I was a laughingstock, and the moment I'm drenched in blood, they start chanting my name. A herd...)
I took my rapier and headed toward the exit, and along the way a Healer cured me, and I walked on, wiping my face from the blood.
("You're cruel.") ("A freak who doesn't know fencing rules.") ("An idiot who put himself above everyone.") — with those words I was seen off at the pyramid's exit.
(Hypocrisy... One moment they clap, the next they insult... Am I a killer? Yes. But the tournament was created this way from the start — I only changed the method...)
(I killed four. These are my first kills in this world — and in the past I never killed anyone. But I feel no weight. Maybe because of how the commentators reacted, like it was a football match. I survived — but now I'm someone who cut short lives. And I don't carry the burden — it doesn't hurt to acknowledge it. It's part of my path to become strong and independent. I've been killed several times, tortured — and now I'm becoming someone who won't let that happen again.)
("Seraphim! I bet on you!") ("Seraphim, make meat!") ("I'll pay the commentators to say 'Release the Kraken' when Seraphim comes out") — a different kind of people threw that at my back.
And I walked toward the river, and as soon as I got there, I submerged myself completely, pushing the duckweed aside, forming a large blood-colored halo around me. Sailors on the sailboats looked at me — some prayed to the Archons from just the sight of me and the blood around me, some tried to sketch me in time, some deliberately turned away. But one girl with a turquoise bob watched me the whole time as the ship slowly sailed past — and stopped watching only when she lost sight of me.