Chapter 28 The Insult Of The Defeated, Part Two
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
After having finished lunch, Charles visited the circular arena on the 98th floor.
Of course, Charles did not walk from the castle. Unlike the deserted early morning 92nd floor, the 98th floor is a bustling city that never sleeps at night. Especially when there is an event at the arena, if Charles were to walk through the crowds, there are only two conceivable possibilities: a major panic or a parting of the crowd like Moses.
To be honest, he has a desire to experience the liveliness of the 98th floor while walking. However, without the need to create a major disturbance, Charles intentionally teleported directly from the castle on the 100th floor to a room within the arena where the teleportation magic circle had already been set up.
And guided by the staff of the arena, after walking a few minutes through a dedicated corridor that regular customers cannot enter, he was led to the VIP seats on the top floor of the arena.
The wall facing the stage is transparent, allowing a panoramic view of the entire arena from the inside, but from the audience seats, it appears as a normal wall.
From the VIP seats on the top floor, the fighters’ figures may only appear as dots, but the relay footage is projected on holographic-like image boards that float in the center of the arena. The implementation of this ancient relic, known as a mechanical magic tool, during the decline of APOCALYPSE SAGA, creates a slight sense of strange in the world of swords and magic.
Facing the transparent wall, Charles sits on a comfortable leather sofa, overlooking the entire arena. The stage and the gradually seating audience surrounding it all lie below, reminding him once again that he is the ruler of Babellion.
”My Lord, Sarikir-dono has come to greet you.”
”Let him in.”
”Yes.”
Charles remained seated on the sofa, only turning his gaze towards the back.
From beyond the doors of the VIP section opened by Satsuki, a skeleton with a long chin beard appeared, brought in by Felshiol. Sarikir, the skeleton, slowly approached after bowing deeply and said, “Excuse me.” He then knelt in a position that did not obstruct Charles’ view but was still suitable for watching.
It was a bit refreshing to see Sarikir without the hood that should have been deeply covering his head.
However, Charles, who didn’t want the excitement of the upcoming match to be spoiled by a long-winded speech, spoke before Sarikir.
”I hear you have been working hard on undead experiments.”
”Yes, I am working diligently for Your Majesty and for Babellion, willing to turn my bones to dust.”
And Sarikir prostrates. He had a gentle personality, like a kind old man, and had served the young lord like a grandson for generations, but his face is tense. Well, it’s natural for a skull to be hard.
”Lift your face.”
”Yes.”
”I’m looking forward to today’s match.”
”Yes, thank you for your kind words…”
And all the lights in the venue went out.
The noisy venue fell silent for a moment.
Then, with fanfare, multicolored spotlights raced in all directions, and the audience’s excitement reached its peak. The thunderous roar of cheers shook the ground of the arena.
Light illuminated the image board, which was like a wall of mist. Projected there was the commentary booth,
”Ladieeesss and gentlemeeeen… and… The uns*xuaaal… ahh, all living things… ahh, well, forget it, there are undead too… Ah, there are so many damn annoying people from Babellion?!”
The grip was strong, and the ground shook in response to the red-faced [Ogre]’s live commentary, causing the air to tremble so much that it seemed to distort even in the dimensions.
”First, let’s go over the precautions. Today’s match is a divine match, so it’s great to get excited, but seriously, stop jumping from the spectator seats or starting unsightly brawls.”
With these words from the live commentary, the audience fell silent as if doused with water.
”Oops… well, can’t be helped. The people of Babellion, who do not feel nervous upon hearing about the great Saint His Majesty Charlierel, are the same as the Twelve Pillars of the Saint Tower, right?”
But then, the commentator shouted.
”A silent match is sh*t. His Majesty surely wouldn’t be pleased with that. So, I’ll ask again… Are you ready, you guys?!”
* * *
In the dimly lit small room illuminated by the torch’s flame, Princess Lucia quietly awaited the moment.
There was an iron-barred door, but this was not a prison cell. It was the waiting room of the arena.
It had been just a few hours since Lucia emerged from the labyrinthine maze of the colossal prison, pulled by the strange force of the jailer. She had been placed on top of a massive magic circle. Then, as a dazzling light burst forth, Lucia found herself standing alone in a long corridor. Hastily turning back, all she saw were walls, with no trace of the magic circle that should have spread across the floor. Furthermore, there were no handcuffs or chains around her neck.
So Lucia once again stood on the other side of the wall… heading towards the end of the long corridor. The light was visible at the end of the corridor, and there was no other path to take. It was self-evident that there would be trials awaiting her at the end of the corridor.
Lucia, her cheeks on the verge of cramping from tension, slapped them with both hands and slowly walked towards the light at the end of the corridor.
”Here…”
At the end of the hallway was a stone room with nothing on it except a rustic iron chair.
”I’ve been waiting for you.”
A voice came from behind.
Startled, Lucia turned around to find a demon-like maid standing there, who had appeared out of nowhere. She was almost the same height as Lucia, with the only apparent differences being the absence of horns and an eerily blue complexion. However, it was immediately clear that she was strong.
”I’ve come to inform you of the trial given to you.”
Though not physically restrained, Lucia understood that she was not free. Therefore, she nodded in agreement with the maid’s words without resistance.
”This is the arena of Saint Tower Babellion. You will now compete in this arena. If you can win the match, your attendant knight Elaine will be set free. This has been promised in the name of His Majesty.”
”A match…does that mean you just have to fight the enemy and win?”
”Yes, that’s correct.”
The female maid nodded and pointed to the corner of the room. As Lucia looked to where her finger was pointing, she saw her beloved dragon scale armor and sword laid out there.
”I’ve been ordered to assist with putting on the armor. Tell me about all the fine adjustments. It’s an order to ensure that you can fight in perfect condition.”
True to her words, the female maid flawlessly carried out the order that had been given to her. Lucia was immediately stripped of her slave clothes and adorned with new garments and armor with remarkable skill, so precise that there was no need for any adjustments to be mentioned.
”What kind of monster is the enemy in this trial?”
Lucia asked the female maid as she sheathed her beloved sword at her waist. However, in response to her question, the female maid shook her head and said, “That’s something I can’t tell you.”
”Enter when the iron bars are raised.”
With that, as if she had completed her task, the female maid turned her back and walked down the hallway where Lucia had arrived── only for the iron bars to come crashing down the moment Lucia stepped into the corridor, blocking her retreat.
And now, Lucia sits on the solitary iron chair in the waiting room, eagerly awaiting the moment when the iron bars on the opposite side of the corridor, which are likely connected to the arena, will rise.
Lucia couldn’t imagine what kind of enemy she would face in the trial. Would it be a demon like the female maid from earlier, or perhaps a monster like the one who r*ped Elaine in the prison, or maybe even a powerful dragon… The only thing she knows for sure is that the enemy is strong.
It’s highly unlikely that she would easily defeat weak monsters (Mamono) and have a happy ending. Normally, Lucia would have to fight against an enemy she couldn’t defeat. It’s easy to imagine being thrown from hope to despair.
However, there is no doubt that it is hope. If it is sworn in the name of the ruler, then it is certain that if Lucia wins, Elaine will be free… No, she has no choice but to believe that.
Now, there is no longer any fear or tension in Lucia’s eyes. Only the determination to fulfill the promise of protecting someone, just like when she wore armor in the old capital, is burning.
As she thought so, there was a loud clanging sound of chains.
Lucia looked up in surprise as the heavy lattice door slowly lifted off the floor.
She stood up and closed her eyes for a moment, picturing the faces of the people she wanted to protect. When she opened her eyes again, the flames of determination burned even brighter, consuming her.
As she stepped into the corridor, she felt something like a membrane in the air. Startled, she jumped back. But she had already made up her mind that it was pointless to set such a trap after sending a maid to help her put on her armor. She decided to pass through the membrane without hesitation──
Immediately after, Lucia was hit by a thunderous cheer that shook her brain. And then she realized that the membrane in the air was an invisible soundproof barrier, designed to keep the cheers of the arena from reaching the waiting room.
”Now, the main character of today’s match will enter from the eastern corridor. What she seeks is the liberation of the pitiful sidekick knight who was captured with her. This sidekick knight is said to have avoided a blow from Vice Commander Blackback of the First Army, so if it’s her master, will her abilities be equal or even greater!?”
As loud voices echo around the arena, Lucia takes one step, then another… slowly. To turn her wishes into reality, and to transform her determination into strength.
”For the sake of fulfilling her desires, and for the sake of fulfilling the promise with her loyal knight, the one who challenges this trial stands here. Among the knights praised as the governor of the old capital and the princess general of the empire, she is the enemy princess of Babellion… Lucia Ravendora Harenamerehta!”
The moment she emerged from the passage and into the arena, Lucia’s focus reached its peak. It was so intense that even the loud cheers seemed distant, and the audience seats were not even in sight, with only the iron bars of the opposite wall in her gaze.
”And the obstacle to her wishes in this trial is this guy!”
A dazzling light illuminated the opposing entrance.
”Why is the one who drive the force of this match none other than Sarikir-sama, the commander of the Skull Army (Screamer)… There are surely many who have questioned this. But this is the proof that he, this man, is the protagonist!”
The sound of military boots stepping on the ground, and the distinct metallic noise coming from the armor could be heard.
”Two days ago, the general, who had been brutally killed by the First Army, returned from the depths of hell. Tonight, he would bare his fangs against his former master and hinder the freedom of his former comrades──”
Lucia’s attention was solely focused on the commentary. She wanted to gather any information she could about the enemy, who they were, how many of them there were, and what kind of power they possessed.
But the moment she saw the figure emerge from the darkness beyond the iron bars and be exposed to the light, she couldn’t even hear the commentary anymore. Was it because her brain automatically deemed it unnecessary and placed it outside the realm of her conscious focus, or was it because the shock was too overwhelming for her brain’s processing capacity?
In Lucia’s field of vision appeared a man. He wore a deep blue armor with a distinct patterned headpiece that had two lions on both sides, each with a face. The man’s face was twisted, with the right half drooping and his tongue hanging out.
That ugly face was unforgettable. No, Lucia understood it as soon as she saw it. However, she instinctively rejected understanding it.
It was a pitiful loser who was denied the privilege of being summoned by the gods after death, and had his glorious battle records and entire life denied.
Unbelievably, as if begging for it to be a mistake, as if pleading for it not to be true, a single name was uttered by Lucia.
”…Kassan, dros?”
* * *
Princess Lucia’s face, filled with astonishment, was shown up close on the broadcast. Her trembling lips expressed a complex mix of anger, sadness, and frustration.
The undead that stood before her triggered these emotions.
His head had been crushed, creating a seam running through the middle of his face. His eye sockets were sunken, the right half of his face distorted and his mouth open, revealing a tongue hanging down like a thirsty dog. His appearance was terrifying, and if normal people saw him behind them at midnight, they would probably wet themselves, given his ugly and eerie undead appearance.
If his design had been touched up with pliers, he might have looked cool, but undead created by skills were the epitome of ugliness. However, what was interesting was that when he became undead, he did not default to the design of the APOCALYPSE SAGA, but instead retained his pre-death face.
”…Is that the [General Corpse (General Ghoul)]?”
Charles asked Sarikir. Sarikir, still kneeling, nodded and replied, “Indeed, that is correct.”
”He seems smaller than a typical [General Ghoul]…”
He remembers that a regular General Ghoul created through the Undead Creation skill was over 2 meters tall and quite large. However, the General Ghoul shown in the live broadcast seems to have the same physique as when he was alive.
In response to Charles’ question, Sarikir shook his head vertically while looking at the live broadcast of the General Ghoul.
”Yes. It seems that in this world, undead created using actual corpses retain their original physique. Although the flesh of that General has decayed, his appearance is almost unchanged from when he was alive.”
”I see… So they inherit the physique of the corpse they were created from… Do they retain their abilities as well?”
”I’ve conducted numerous experiments, but there have been no changes except for the physique.”
”That’s interesting…”
First of all, the creation of undead in APOCALYPSE SAGA is a skill that generates undead from nothing, so changing corpses into undead is a skill that goes beyond the game. Perhaps there is a chance of success, so Charles collected the corpses with the hope of discovering new possibilities in the different world. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
”So, does this mean various undead can be created as long as there are corpses?”
”No, I conducted experiments using corpses, but I can’t do them freely.”
”Oh?”
Sarikir shook his head in response to Charles’s question.
”It seems that the conditions for generating undead depend on the level and skills of the corpses used as the base. In other words, only low-level undead can be created from lower-ranked corpses. However, conversely, if we obtain a good base, we may be able to summon high-ranking undead as well.”
”Is it true that the body of [General Ghoul] was once a skilled soldier?”
”Yes. That corpse belonged to a man named Kassandros, who served under Princess Lucia. He was a general in his previous life, which allowed him to become a General Ghoul.”
”Kassandros… I’ve heard that name somewhere.”
”Yes. He was the ace unit of the old capital after capturing Princess Lucia. Considering that the level of the created General Ghoul is 73, it is believed that General Kassandros was also level 73. However, his abilities have increased since becoming undead.”
”I see,” Charles murmurs, remembering hearing that name in Shiki’s report. And he finds Lucia’s expression on the screen convincing.
What Sarikir prepared as the princess’s trial is someone who is a valuable subordinate and comrade to her. They won’t allow him to rest in peace even after death, forcibly turning him into an undead and obstructing the princess’s wish.
In order for the princess to fulfill her wish, she must defeat Kassandros. And that also means she must deliver a second death to her former comrade who was once disgraced even after his passing, with her own sword.
”Kukuku, what an eccentric fellow.”
Charles praised Sarikir’s work with a wicked smile. And there, he revealed an idea that had crossed his mind to Sarikir.
”…If the princess were to win────”
At Charles’s words, Sarikir’s expressionless skull’s eye sockets became distorted like an upside-down crescent moon.
”Hohoho, it seems it is beyond Your Majesty’s reach after all.”
He chuckled in a dark voice, clicking his jawbone.
* * *
It was a pitiful loser who was denied the privilege of being summoned by the gods after death, and had his glorious battle records and entire life denied.
Unbelievably, as if begging for it to be a mistake, as if pleading for it not to be true, a single name was uttered by Lucia.
”…Kassan, dros…?”
However, there was no response. The poor corpse just let out a voiceless cry.
Lucia’s lips began to tremble again. But the trembling wasn’t from nervousness or fear…it was from sadness and regret.
The once Kassandros-now-deceased swung his great sword, kicking the ground. In the murky depths of his eye sockets, there was no loyalty, no trust, no will. There was only the instinct to kill the living before him.
There is no turning back for him now────.
Turning her complex and uncontainable emotions into a cry, Lucia drew her beloved sword and closed in on the approaching Kassandros.
The clash of their swords rang out with a high-pitched metallic sound, signaling the beginning of Lucia’s trial.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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