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chapter 189:
"Yoo yoo yooo!! We're at the last match of the day, and I think it will be the most fun and fastest!" The announcer yelled excitedly, his voice booming through the magical amplification crystal. The crowd answered with a roar, horns and drums thundering from the stands, vendors almost dropping their trays as the noise slammed across the arena.
"Hmm, not sure about that," Kayda muttered dryly from her seat at the VIP section, her voice cutting through like a knife even though she hadn't raised it much.
The announcer blinked and turned to look behind him, caught off guard, eyes wide as if he had just realized who had spoken. When he saw Kayda, his face twitched into a stiff smile. Then, deciding not to test his luck further, he spun back toward the crowd.
"Alright, can the contestants come to the arena!" he shouted, brushing off the interruption with forced cheer.
The response from the audience was deafening, a wall of sound shaking the arena walls. Banners rippled. Some chanted my name, some cursed it, and others shouted random bets at one another, their excitement carrying on the wind like sparks.
I stood up from my seat in the waiting chamber and checked my reflection in the long, polished mirror bolted to the wall. My attire wasn't anything fancy: a simple sports bra snug against my chest, baggy cargo pants with plenty of room to move, and my trusted boots that had seen more blood and mud than most soldiers did in their entire lives. My hair, black with streaks that shimmered faintly under the light, was tied back in a low ponytail to keep it out of my face.
However, it wouldn't make a difference if my hair got in my way.
I stretched once, cracked my knuckles, then nodded to myself. My reflection grinned back, sly and eager.
I walked out, stepping into the corridor that led to the arena. The chants grew louder as I passed under the archway, the torchlight flickering across the walls. My ears twitched as the announcer's voice once more rattled the very air.
I expected a strong-looking angel, something like Rachel, or at least one of those arrogant holy warriors with muscles big enough to flex at the crowd. But when I stepped onto the stage and looked across the arena, I saw him-scrawny, lanky, his armor polished but not lived in, his wings neat but unimpressive.
I almost laughed.
"Huh, I thought I would be fighting someone strong like Rachel. You look so weak," I said flatly, my irritation plain.
Surprisingly formal for someone about to face defeat, the angel offered a small bow. "Good evening, Madame Kitsuna."
My eyebrows lifted. "I see you came prepared to lose."
"The Saintess told me I didn't stand a chance," he said without hesitation. His voice carried no shame, no embarrassment. Just calm faith.
"Saintess?" I repeated, tilting my head.
"Yes, our godly Saintess came back to us last year after being missing for years," he said. The way his voice warmed when he said her title made me want to punch him already. The reverence in his eyes suggested that he would kneel and lick the dirt off her sandals if she asked him to.
"...haah. "I don't understand, but whatever," I muttered, shaking my head at his nonsense. I rolled my shoulders, loosening them, and then dropped into a stance. My arms raised, fists ready, body relaxed but sharp, like a blade waiting to cut.
I doubt he'll be strong enough for me to use weapons. The fight will be too easy.' The thought came arrogantly, but it felt right.
The angel straightened, squaring his shoulders. "Ah yes, they also said you might underestimate me." His tone was almost amused. He reached behind and pulled free a long lance, gleaming silver under the sun, along with a massive shield almost as tall as he was.
My eyes narrowed slightly. 'He seriously is a shield paladin?' It was a rare branch of the class tree, and while uncommon, they could be dangerous in their own ways. But his posture gave him away-he was still raw.
The announcer's voice boomed. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen, let the final fight of the day begin!!"
The bell rang, echoing sharp as steel.
On the very first beat, I slammed my right foot into the ground. Frost exploded outward, white smoke racing across the floor in a spreading cloud, masking my movement. The crowd gasped as my silhouette disappeared in the mist.
Breaking out of the haze right in front of him, I drove my fist toward his chest with the speed of a cannonball.
He reacted, though-his eyes flicked to me, and his massive shield snapped into place. My fist slammed into its surface, the thud echoing across the arena.
Grinning, I opened my palm against the metal, my other hand already pressing down from above. My boots dug into the stone, muscles twisting, and with a clean pivot I flipped the shield-and him-over my shoulder, slamming him into the ground with a crunch.
"Ugh," he grunted, the breath rushing out of him. His shield shifted slightly, and his lance shot forward through the gap like a snake.
I leaped back, boots skidding across the dirt, putting distance between us. He scrambled up, shield raised, lance ready.
'So he is a special paladin,' I thought, circling him slowly. His defense is standard for paladins. His speed... above average, but not remarkable. His offense? Still unknown. Too terrible I can't test that part properly.'
He muttered something under his breath, then raised his chin, his eyes not meeting mine but scanning, watching. His stance was tighter now, less sloppy.
I dashed again, a blur across the ground. His eyes narrowed, his lance pulled back. At the last moment he thrust, but I twisted just enough to let it scrape past me. My right hand snapped out, catching the shaft, ice crawling across it instantly. His eyes widened as frost bit his fingers, forcing him to release it.
The weapon clattered onto the ground. I kicked it away, sending it spinning far out of reach.
"You don't know how to use a lance, so don't use it," I said coldly.
He tightened his grip on his shield and roared, charging. With his shield swinging in my direction, his steps carved gouges in the ground.
I raised one hand, palm open, and stopped it.
"You also-" I started, but then the light flared.
The shield burst with holy energy, blasting outward in a wave that singed the air. I leapt up and over it, twisting as the shockwave tore across the floor. Dust and chunks of stone rattled against the barrier surrounding the arena.
"Don't underestimate me too much!" he shouted, some bravado creeping into his tone.
"Pfft. "You think too much of yourself," I said, voice amused as I blurred and appeared behind him. My hand landed on his shoulder.
His breath hitched. "Wha!" He swung his shield wide, panic making the arc sloppy. I ducked easily under it.
"Don't panic like that," I whispered, then drove my fist into his gut. His body folded over the blow, air leaving him in a strangled gasp. I followed with a headbutt that cracked against his helmet and sent him sprawling to his knees.
"Pah!" He coughed, struggling to breathe. His hands trembled. But then-
"Augh." he roared, golden mana exploding around him like a fire. His body trembled as his aura flared, eyes glowing faintly.
"Berserk?" I muttered.
He slammed a foot down, golden bursts of mana rippling outward. I swatted one aside with my hand. Another came-swat. Another-swat.
'With Kayda's mana training, the situation is child's play,' I thought. I can control the mana in the air, divert it, and tear it apart. Unless you're Amari— or Kayda-level, you'll never push through.'
More bursts came, but each time I brushed them away, like swatting flies.
"Using my tricks against me will never work," I said, my voice carrying clear over the crowd.
His teeth clenched. With a beat of his wings, he launched upward.
"Air fighting? You seriously think this will help you?" I tilted my head.
He didn't answer. He dived like an eagle, shield raised, body a bullet of gold and white.
"Are you losing sight of your opponent now?" I muttered.
I stepped to the side, let him streak past, then snapped my hand out, catching the back of his neck mid-flight. His momentum died with a sickening jerk.
"Yaa!" he yelped, the sound strange, broken, and almost pitiful.
Disgusted, I flung him aside, sending him tumbling.
"This is getting annoying," I said flatly.
I lifted my hand, shaping the mana into a familiar construct. A barrel of ice and steel formed in my grip, a hand cannon with glowing veins. The angel stared, confusion in his eyes, his body trembling from exhaustion and pain.
"Sorry, but you're getting boring." My finger curled.
Boom!
The shot thundered. The cannon's recoil shook the ground. The angel's head simply vanished in a red mist. His body crumpled, shield slipping free, wings twitching once before going limp.
The arena went silent.
Even the announcer's voice faltered. The crowd stared, breath caught.
"She was playing around this whole time?" a voice whispered from the stands.
Then, chaos. Shouts of outrage, cries of "wasted money," and boos mixing with scattered cheers. Some called my name; others cursed it.
"Not my problem," I muttered, turning. My boots crunched on the dirt as I walked out of the arena, the silence of the tunnel a relief after the chaos.
Around the corner, a familiar figure stood waiting. A cat-girl with her arms folded, her glare sharp enough to cut stone.
"Mom, what now?" I asked, scratching the back of my neck.
"Where have you been?" she demanded.
"Planning."
"What are you planning?"
"Don't worry about it. It will literally do nothing against your plans. I can assure you of that," I said, raising a brow, hoping she wouldn't push.
"Can you now? And what are my plans?" Mom asked, one eyebrow arched, daring me.
"Well, the roster changes have ruined ninety percent of your plans," I sarcastically remarked, causing her glare to intensify.
"Moreover, I had hoped to engage in a battle with Rachel today." I mean, I didn't even see her the whole day," I added, trying to deflect.
"That's because she is scheduled to fight Amari tomorrow morning," Mom said, her voice softening slightly, though worry lingered there, as it always did.
"Hmm. So I'm here to get rid of all the fodder?" I asked thoughtfully.
"Yeah, it seems so. Or for them to find out how strong you really are," Mom said, shrugging.
"Sigh, how annoying," I muttered. But I wasn't frustrated. If anything, I was amused.
The game had only just begun.
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Chapter 190:
"So Amari is going against Rachel first? Did you talk to her about it?" I asked, glancing at Mom, who was standing next to me in the arena stands. The morning sunlight poured through the high arches, glinting off the barrier that sealed the fighting ground. The smell of dust and anticipation filled the air, mingling with the distant cries of vendors hawking snacks to restless nobles.
"Yes, we had a brief discussion about how she should not let her emotions control her actions," Mom said, settling herself into her seat with the kind of calm that came from experience, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of concern.
"You think she's going to mop the floor with her," I said thoughtfully. There was no arrogance in the words-just a quiet observation. I knew how powerful Amari had become, how rigorously she had trained.
"...I don't know. A lot can happen in half a year," Mom admitted after a pause, folding her arms and leaning back.
"Yes, that's true. But both of them changed a lot in the last half year," I reminded her. My voice carried a note of quiet conviction. "She participated in a raid the other day that significantly increased her level."
"Amari should win," Mom said finally, her tone returning to the certainty of a commander making a call.
Just then the announcers entered their booth above the arena. The crowd erupted, stomping and clapping. Trumpets blared, and banners were raised, their crests fluttering in the wind.
"Ah, it seems like it's going to start," I said, raising my eyes to the booth.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Isn't it a good day for some blood and fights?" The first announcer bellowed, his voice magically amplified so it rattled the air.
"This guy is getting annoying," I muttered, while Mom let out a short grunt in agreement.
"First up, we have the all-lovable Saintess competing against the child killer, Amari Draig! Will justice win, or will the murderer keep on killing?!" The second announcer cried dramatically, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. His words drew murmurs from the audience, some jeering, others shouting Amari's name. I saw his partner glare at him from the corner of his eye, clearly annoyed at his choice of words.
"Where is Kayda?" I asked, realizing the other announcer wasn't her but some angel-loving replacement.
"She will be on the arena floor to make sure what happened before doesn't happen again," Mom explained, her tone grim.
I sighed. "And you don't think this will put a lot of pressure on her?" I glanced down at the arena, watching Amari enter from one side and Rachel from the other.
"Nah, she'll be fine," Mom waved me off, but the slight hesitation in her voice made me question whether she even believed her words.
'Sometimes I just don't know what she's thinking,' I thought, tapping a clawed finger against my thigh. My throat felt dry, so I reached into my storage.
"Hey, give me one as well," Mom said, holding out her hand without even looking.
"Sure?" I said, pulling out two cans and tossing one to her. She caught it effortlessly and popped it open, the hiss of escaping fizz barely audible over the crowd's roar.
"Kitsuna," she said after a sip, "can you please clarify what your backup plan is?"
"...It's to make them underestimate me," I answered simply, eyes still on the arena. I avoided her gaze on purpose.
"Oh, alright. I guess you will use that."
"Hmm, that might be good too. Alright, I will have that in mind at the time," Mom said, and I caught the faintest edge of approval.
"Yeah, I'm also busy leveling up," I added with a smirk.
"Where are you leveling up?" she asked immediately, narrowing her eyes.
"That I'm not going to say."
"Fine." She took another sip, watching the fighters prepare. "Ah, there are Kayda and Amari."
My gaze followed hers. "Hmm, why is Rachel dressed like that?" I asked. She was clad in heavy armor that shimmered faintly with enchantments, her movements slower but deliberate.
"Full magic resistance armor?" Mom guessed, her brow furrowing.
"Yeah, I doubt that will work," I scoffed, shaking my head.
