Oh, what bad luck! Just as Davushir was contemplating his fate, the nobleman who had captured him spoke.
If you win the Roel Tournament, I will spare you.
Davushir’s eyes gleamed, and he boldly replied, “Leave it to me!”
For the self-proclaimed mercenary king, winning the tournament was too easy. Davushir had no doubt that he would win the Roel Tournament.
That is, if he didn’t have to face a kid like this as his opponent.
“What is this…….”
He blurted out in disbelief.
The gladiatorial tournament had begun. His first opponent on stage was none other than a young child.
At first, he thought he was mistaken.
But upon closer inspection, it was indeed a child. No matter how many times he looked, the opponent’s height and stature remained the same.
“Tsk. Messing with a kid is bad luck.”
While it was just for that day, it wasn’t exactly something to be pleased about.
“It can’t be helped. Whoever put you in this has some twisted tastes. Resent your sponsor for bringing you here.”
Davushir slowly drew out the heavy greatsword from the scabbard on his back.
As he watched the young child, his opponent, lift the tournament-provided sword into the arena, he tightly gripped the handle of his own sword.
‘I’ll send you to the afterlife with one strike!’
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
‘Davushir, we meet again…’
Narse, who stood on the tournament stage for his second match, stared at the child, his opponent, with a strange look in his eyes.
‘Is he the type of person who would deliberately lose because he couldn’t cut a child?’
He recalled the match between the kid in front of him and Davushir.
As soon as the fight began, Davushir lunged at the child. His greatsword narrowly missed the child’s side.
He swung the sword with such delicate control that it narrowly missed the child. His precise control was admirable.
At that moment, the child moved from his spot, and the tip of the sword he was holding struck Davushir’s chin.
Thud!
It was quite a loud sound, but it was probably just an impression. The sound of impact corresponded to the blow’s force. No matter how hard the child struck, their strength couldn’t generate that loud of a noise.
Nevertheless, Davushir was hit on the chin… and fell down, not getting up until the referee declared the end of the match.
‘It was quite an impressive performance.’
He continued to act unconscious even as someone dragged him off the stage…
‘But, Davushir, you’ll regret it. By sparing the child, you ended up looking like a fool.’
Until the moment Davushir was dragged out, his sponsor shouted like a madman.
He threatened that if Davushir didn’t get up immediately, he would kill him before the competition ended, staking his own name and fortune on it.
Even with such a severe threat, Davushir never opened his eyes.
Honestly, it was somewhat admirable.
Sacrifice is always noble, after all. Not that he can come back from the dead.
‘If I win this tournament, I’ll at least send a flower to your grave.’
With that thought, Narse prepared for battle.
He gripped a dagger in each hand and lowered his stance so that he would be ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
‘I’ll make it quick and painless. Unlike Davushir, that’s the best I can do for you, kid.’
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
‘Davushir, Narse. So we meet again.’
As he looked at his opponent for the third match, standing on the tournament stage, Sarinki licked his lips.
‘So it turns out they were both fools.’
Intentionally losing a match because the opponent was a child. And pretending to be unconscious while doing so.
It was something Sarinki would never even attempt in his wildest dreams.
‘Well, it worked out well! Now it’s my turn.’
Sarinki’s eyes gleamed with dark amusement. It’s always enjoyable to cut down young and weak creatures.
Even though following that enjoyment led to becoming a wanted criminal…
So what? With enough money, evading the authorities is not difficult.
Sarinki planned to leave this kingdom altogether after winning the Roel Tournament and receiving a substantial reward from his sponsor.
‘The fools’ mercy has become poison for you, child. Since you’re my opponent now, I’ll make sure to send you off as painfully and slowly as possible.’
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
‘Davushir, Narse, Sarinki. We meet again.’
Ghost, the fixer famous for his ghostly skills to handle any dirty and messy job as long as he’s paid, stood tall on the final tournament stage, contemplating.
‘Especially Sarinki, I thought he was a vicious killer…’
Was it just a rumor?
For the final match, Ghost calmly eyed his opponent.
Bright blond hair, dark eyes. Clear skin.
His face was beautiful enough to catch one’s eye, but that was all. A lovely face wasn’t going to help him in a fight.
‘Anyway, it seems luck is on my side. Having a child as my opponent in the finals is a blessing.’
Ghost drew his sword from his waist. It was the sword he acquired recently after betraying a close comrade. He had always liked its sleekness.
He lifted the beautiful blade and pointed it at the child.
‘Kid, I will never intentionally lose to you like your past opponents.’
At that moment, the eyes of the child and Ghost met.
A single bead of unknown sweat trickled down Ghost’s spine.
Unconsciously, Ghost swallowed hard.
“…they lost on purpose, right?”
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
A miracle had happened.
It was a miracle greater than lightning striking and the tournament venue burning it down.
Sion had won the Roel Gladiatorial Tournament.
Moreover, Sion ended every match in the blink of an eye. There was no chance for Laila to kneel before the Marquis.
“Huh, Sponsor. Congratulations.”
“Truly remarkable!”
“Where did you get a contestant like that…….”
Congratulations poured out to Marquis Hildegarde, who sat in Sion’s sponsor seat as the 16th participant. Some even applauded.
Amidst the commotion, Laila sat in a daze, staring at the tournament stage.
More precisely, she was still watching Sion on the stage.
Sion, with his wrist held by the referee, noticed Laila standing motionless with a blank face. Their eyes met.
Sion’s lips moved.
I
didn’t
lie.
That’s what it appeared he said.
…She couldn’t be sure if she had interpreted it correctly. But it seemed like he said exactly that.
Laila felt a strange sensation. It was as if her heart had dropped from a great height.
In the aftermath, her heart raced faster than usual. That’s when it happened.
“Hahaha!”
A booming laughter caught Laila’s ears.
Laila turned her head. The masked Marquis of Hildegarde was grinning from ear to ear.
Laila felt a chill run down her spine. In that moment, she felt a violent urge to slap that gleefully laughing face.
“Laila.”
At the sound of her name, Laila flinched, almost jumping out of her seat.
…Did he hear her thoughts of wanting to slap him? No, that couldn’t be.
Suppressing her trembling emotions, Laila opened her mouth.
“Yes, Father.”
“Thanks to you, I had an enjoyable spectacle.”
“…….”
So what? Because of you, I’ve been living in hell for the past ten days.
Thankfully, Sion had worked a miracle, but just thinking about the despair I felt still made my stomach churn and my teeth grind.
As Laila lowered her gaze and mentally cursed, Marquis Hildegarde spoke up again.
“Do you know? The winner of this competition is usually allowed to make one wish to their sponsor.”
“Really?”
“He’s your slave, so you’ll make the wish on his behalf.”
……Wish?
That sounded familiar. When you think about it, there was a time when the villain suddenly offered to grant a wish out of nowhere.
Is he now whimsically granting wishes out of joy again?
“No?”
The short-tempered villain interrupted Laila’s thoughts. Hastily, she replied.
“Do I have to say it here, now?”
“Yes.”
“…….”
“If you don’t have one…”
“P-Please let Sion be my escort.”
