Chapter 167: The Festival of Swords (10)

Chapter 167: The Festival of Swords (10)

Morning had arrived. As announced by the organizers, the third test commenced around the break of dawn. Participants, just awakening from their slumber, gathered at the assembly point, rubbing their eyes. With each breath or word they uttered, white puffs of smoke dissipated into the cold air.

"Ugh, it's cold. How cold can it possibly get in the sacred grounds?"

"It feels like full-on winter here."

The second checkpoint was located halfway up the mountain. As the altitude increased, the concept of seasons gradually faded away. The guides, now clad in thick leather attire, bustled about, carrying various items. Most of them were enormous boxes containing an abundance of ingredients such as meat and vegetables.

"Is it for dinner tonight?"

"It seems like too much for just that."

Those who witnessed the peculiar scene were taken aback. It seemed like a fervent effort to set up a new restaurant, involving various equipment. At that moment, a woman in slightly better outerwear stepped forward. She seemed to be in charge of overseeing this test. Clapping her hands to draw attention, she began to speak.

"Good morning, everyone. It's already the third test. The participant with the highest performance today will be awarded a priority selection voucher for the final test."

"A priority selection voucher?"

"Yes. As you may know, the final test involves sparring with participants from Gran Parzan. Originally, opponents are randomly assigned, but with a priority selection voucher, you can choose your opponent for the duel."

Ronan's eyes widened. This was an unexpected gain. It seemed like a means to boost enthusiasm, much like acquiring the sword from the first test. Ronan and Russell exchanged glances almost simultaneously. Since they were at a distance, they communicated through facial expressions.

- You... is this...!

- Lucky you. Looks like we won't have to resort to any surprise tricks.

- Well, are you confident?

- Let's give it a try, at least.

Ronan nodded in agreement. It was a fortunate turn of events. It appeared that aiming for the selection voucher was not exclusive to them, judging by the fiery gazes of other participants.

"Essentially, it's a ticket to the sacred grounds."

"Hehehe, this is great."

Upon reflection, it was a natural reaction. By selecting someone who appeared reasonably weaker than oneself, victory could be easily secured. The guide clapped his hands again to silence the crowd and added.

"Furthermore, in this test, there will be no division into groups or camps. There won't be any participants dueling with swords among themselves. It might be an unfamiliar challenge, but we wish you all good health."

Once again, people started to murmur. This test seemed to be different from the two conducted earlier. The guide turned back after delivering those words. Participants followed, engaging in various conversations.

"...Well, it turned out well, didn't it? We managed to grasp the situation among ourselves."

"Yeah, you're right. Exactly."

The majority of participants showed a positive response to the new direction of the test. Despite being competitors, spending days together, overcoming life and death situations, naturally led to a bond forming among them. Eventually, the consensus emerged that the real important thing was the final test against Aran Parzan, and the third test was merely a nominal scarecrow test.

It didn't take long for them to realize that it was indeed a misconception.

****

"Take this!"

"Chwiek!"

A fully-armored knight swung his sword. The broadsword traced a perfect arc as the head of the orc soared into the air. The surrounding orcs, larger and more ferocious than the average, hesitated and retreated.

"Chwiik! Chwiik!"

He was facing Black Orcs, known for their strength. Soon, the ferocious orcs roared and charged. The knight skillfully handled his shield and sword, deflecting attacks from all directions. The cheers of the audience, filled with participants, echoed in the arena.

"Stay strong! Fox Knight!"

"Show them the power of beastmen!"

The atmosphere in the arena was intensely heated. On the ground, four Black Orcs and a giant wolf lay scattered, bleeding. The monsters' count hinted that it was the highest score among the participants so far. At that moment, the knight stumbled over a pebble, losing balance.

"Oh no!"

"Chwieet!"

He quickly corrected his stance, but the orcs did not miss the opportunity. A club flew from the side, striking the knight's head. Kwang! The dull metallic sound resonated. His dented helmet was knocked off.

"Keuk!"

The head of a red fox revealed itself. True to the alias Fox Knight, he was a handsome Wearfox. Swiftly regaining balance, Fox Knight swung his sword. With a sharp sound, the blade pierced deep into the chest of the orc that had attacked him. The orc, its heart pierced, died instantly. Just then, a massive shadow loomed over the two. A spectator shouted in alarm.

"Fox Knight! Watch out!"

Fox Knight raised his head. Standing in front of him was a Twin-Headed Ogre, a wall-like figure. One of the ogre's heads blinked, and the other raised its arm, clutching a club made from the trunk of a beautiful oak tree.

"Kwaaargh!"

"Damn it, my sword..."

Fox Knight immediately tried to pull his body away, but the sword stuck in the orc didn't come out. A club fell over his head. Realizing that it was too late, Fox Knight urgently raised his shield. The mana-reinforced shield emitted a bright light.

"Come on! This monstro..."

Fox Knight couldn't finish his sentence. Band! The club pressed the shield directly onto the ground. The sound of metal, bone, and flesh squelching echoed. When the Twin-Headed Ogre lifted the club, Fox Knight and the orc were now a red, sticky blot on the ground.

"Kwaaaargh!!"

The two heads erupted into a triumphant roar. With each swing of the enraged ogre's club, parts of the battered Werefox were scattered like confetti. Participants baptized in a shower of gore recoiled in horror. Ronan, removing bits of intestines stuck to his head, furrowed his brow.

"Ugh. I could've used that as a carpet."

"That was a reckless decision."

Shullifen shook his head from side to side. While both acknowledged the unfortunate outcome, there was little sympathy. It was the consequence of underestimating one's own abilities.

"With that skill level, he should have faced either the ogre or the orc. Greed got the best of him."

"Even if he chose the ogre, picking the two-headed one wasn't a wise move. By the way, where did they find that thing?"

Ronan chuckled as he watched the monsters. The third test took place in an arena carved into the mountain, dwarfing the previous two test arena in size.

The test involved capturing monsters sourced from various regions of the continent. From weak goblins to powerful monsters like Manticores and Ogres, a diverse array was prepared.

Participants had to come forward one by one, selecting the number and type of monsters they wanted to face. They could choose from one to a hundred, and their score depended on the difficulty and number of creatures defeated. Only the top 20 participants would pass, so the more dangerous monsters they defeated, the higher their chances of success.

"Come to think of it, do they not attack each other? The ogre seems quiet."

"Perhaps they're under some spell. This test seems to be meticulously crafted in various aspects."

Shullifen muttered in amazement. Even the Heir of Garcia, who grew up enjoying all kinds of luxury, was impressed enough to express it verbally. The monsters that had devoured Fox Knight entered the cage on their own.

It seemed apparent where all that food had gone. As soon as the cage was closed, the committee members came out and cleared up the corpse. The sight of them scraping bone fragments off the bloody mess was unsettling. The supervisor, confirming the cleanup, let out a faint sigh.

"...Once again, another warrior has been defeated. This test is one that claims many lives. Please, assess your skills carefully and make the right choices."

The supervisor gave a brief salute. Indeed, out of the six who had participated so far, three had lost their lives. Looking around at the standby participants, he continued.

"Now, the next order... number 44."

"That's me."

Ronan stood up. He was the first among his group. Nonchalantly, Navirose remarked.

"Just don't do anything reckless."

"Surely, you don't think I would."

Ronan waved his hand as if to dismiss the concern, and then descended into the arena. The space was vast when seen up close, easily surpassing twice the size of the training ground of a top-tier adventure guild. Suddenly, a translucent illusion appeared in front of Ronan. The supervisor spoke.

"Well, please specify the monster and the number."

Various monsters paraded in front of him. With a hundred to choose from, it seemed like he could create a zoo. Ronan shook his head, as if there was nothing for him to see. Looking up at the supervisor, he declared,

"All of them."

"...What did you just say?"

"I'm picking all one hundred. In order from the most dangerous."

Ronan's voice echoed confidently. Navirose's eyebrows furrowed noticeably. The spectators in the stands started to buzz.

"You."

Lynn rose from her seat. Even she, who was usually composed, couldn't hide her bewilderment. Ronan turned to the group with a smirk, showing the V sign. The bewildered supervisor asked with a perplexed tone.

"...Are you serious?"

"Yes."

Ronan nodded without a hint of hesitation. He had planned for this moment from the beginning of the test. It wasn't just to secure the priority selection voucher. He had a wry smile on his face.

'I guess I'm quite the bastard too.'

His heart was pounding rapidly. Ever since Russell provided information about the demon, Ronan had been feeling this way whenever a battle with a formidable opponent was anticipated. It was a chronic condition that flared up in Ronan. Taking a deep breath, he tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. This seemed to improve his state somewhat. Suddenly, the face of the Betrayer, someone eerily similar to him, crossed his mind.

'Am I carrying that bastard's blood after all?'

The thought occurred to him that it might be a hereditary condition. Despite having lived two lives, he hadn't found the right name for the emotions attached to this feeling. Was it a fighting spirit? Anticipation? Or perhaps an extreme thrill due to heightened tension? In truth, whatever it was didn't matter. There was only one way to extinguish the fire.

"Haa... I understand. Please prepare a hundred monsters."

The supervisor, releasing a deep sigh, gestured for the judges to get busy. Shortly after, our gate began to open fully. The defensive barrier that doubled as a door vanished. The grinding sound of gears, resonating like the growl of a primeval beast, felt ominously powerful. Hundreds of pairs of eyes glinted in the darkness.

"Did he lose his mind?"

"Ronan! You agreed to join our knights! Stop this foolishness!"

"Good. I didn't want to see his ugly face anyway."

The audience remained restless. Amidst the shock, ridicule, and indifference, a eulogy for the fallen warrior echoed in our ears. The inexplicable excitement continued to burn in Ronan's heart. Blood was needed. Blood to quench the fire.

"Then, let's start the test for participant number 44."

With the supervisor's announcement, the gate opened completely. The double doors, previously held by the defensive barrier, disappeared. A hundred monsters poured out like a tidal wave. Ronan, lifting the corner of his mouth in a smirk, eyed the creatures and muttered.

"You all better cool me down a bit."

The roars of a hundred creatures drowned out the noise from the audience. Ronan pulled at the hilt of his sword.