Chapter 2:
The Nature of the Beast King
A FEW DAYS AFTER our victory in the second round, Fran was in perfect form. She had slept, eaten, trained, and fluffed Jet’s fur.
Did you sleep well, Fran?
“Hm…” said Fran, half-asleep. She rubbed her eyes as she ate breakfast. Despite her apparent sleepiness, her hand continued moving, determined to fill her belly.
Today’s your first match in the finals.
“Hm…”
She was her usual sleepy self this morning. I thought that was excellent. If Fran were fully alert, I would’ve wondered whether she’d gotten any sleep at all. Today, like all the days before, Fran needed to bathe and have her hair dried and brushed. Which was precisely why I thought today, like all the days before it, she should be in top fighting form. That said, her hair was going to need some extra attention.
It’s your big fight today, Fran. You have to look good for it.
“I don’t care.”
Oh, come on. Think of all the people who are going to see you.
Fran finally woke up as I was doing her hair. Her eyes lit up as she gave Jet the same treatment.
“You’ll have to look pretty too, Jet.”
“Woof!”
Jet squinted with pleasure and rolled over to show her his belly.
“Here?”
“Arf!”
He reminded me of a goofy Golden Retriever that an old man in my neighborhood used to keep. Jet didn’t seem like a wolf in the slightest, let alone a direwolf.
We have a few hours before we need to leave. Anything you want to do before then?
“Hm. Come here, Teacher.”
Okay…what’s up?
“Hm.”
Fran produced a piece of cloth from her Pocket Dimension and began buffing my blade. She laid me on the bed and put her back into it.
Hey, you still have a match to fight. Don’t go tiring yourself out, now.
“I’m fine.”
But…
“I’m not the only one in the arena today.”
What?
“Think of all the people who’ll see you today. You need to look good, too,” Fran said, continuing her maintenance.
As much as I wanted to thank her, I thought of myself as nothing more than a weapon in her arsenal. Try as I might to refuse, her expert hands were too much for me to resist.
Aah, yeah…that hits the spot.
“Here?”
Yep…right there…that’s good!
“Hm!”
Thirty minutes later, my blade shone like a mirror. Fran wiped a bead of sweat from her chin and nodded at her reflection with satisfaction.
You still good on stamina?
“I’m fine.”
Good. Exhausting herself for the sake of maintaining me would be putting the sword before the swordsman.
All right, let’s get going.
“Hm!”
Fighters participating in the finals were told to gather at the guild. A-Block fighters needed to be especially early, since our fights started in the morning.
“A-11…Fran?”
“Hm.”
A tournament official approached as soon as we entered the guildhall. The officials had probably memorized the faces of each fighter. “Right this way.”
The man led us to a waiting room, formerly the guild’s private quarters. The second and third floors had been converted for the contestants, since making everyone wait in the same room was bound to cause fights and scuffles. I could easily imagine Fran being the cause.
“You will be fighting in the sixth round today. Please wait here until then. Each match has a hard time limit of thirty minutes, so you will wait a maximum of two and a half hours.”
“Hm. Sure.”
“You will be allowed to watch other matches once you have finished your own, but please do not leave the room until then. You may be called up earlier if the preceding fights go faster.”
The finals had a time limit to prevent slow matches and to allow the tournament to get on with its primary business. In the event the time ran out, judges would be called to decide the victor.
“If you need anything, just talk to the official outside your room.”
The official would provide anything from light refreshments to last-minute shopping. Tournament finalists were treated like VIPs. Everything we needed was in our Pocket Dimension, so I doubted we would need to use him. Sure enough, Fran wasted no time in pulling out refreshments.
You know, you ate a lot on the way here…are you sure you should be eating this close to the fight?
“Hm!”
Fran was already stuffing her face full of curry before I could finish my sentence. I was worried it would slow her down in the match. Then again, whatever ill effects she suffered from the curry would be easily offset by the dramatic boost in motivation it provided. Besides, I doubted even a massive plate of it would fill her stomach to the brim.
Well, just take it slow.
“Don’t worry. I’m only half full.” She polished the plate off in a matter of minutes.
I’ll cast some Cleansing Magic so the room won’t stink as much.
She carried on with steak, a cutlet bowl, and finished up with cake for dessert. Fran ate and relaxed for about an hour until a knock came at the door.
“May I come in, Fran?”
“Hm,” Fran answered with a mouth full of whipped cream.
The official walked into the room and didn’t even blink at the sight. He’s good at his job, this one.
“The fourth round has just come to an end. Since your match is two rounds away, we would like for you to move to the waiting room near the arena, please.”
That was sooner than I expected. Fran asked the official about the matches so far and he told her that the first round had ended in a flash. Gaudartha won, as expected. The giant beastman closed in on his opponents as soon as the match began and knocked them out. No wonder he was the Beast King’s elite bodyguard.
The two fights after that took almost the entire thirty minutes. No one wanted the victor to be chosen by deliberation, so they fought each other to their absolute limits.
We made our way through an underground passage to the arena. Fan favorites would cause too much of a ruckus if they took the land route. Private rooms awaited us near the arena, more luxurious than the waiting rooms at the guild hall. Ours came equipped with a fancy sofa and a feather-quilted bed. The organizers spared no expense.
“The fifth match will soon be underway. You may be called immediately, so please get ready.”
“Hm. Sure.”
“Please wait here until you are called.”
“Hm!”
Fran threw herself onto the fluffy sofa, clearly enjoying the cool touch of its leather, and perked up her ears to listen to what was going on outside. I followed her lead and strained to hear the match. Cruise should be up against Radule at the moment. The explosions I heard must have been the old mage’s spells.
Fran listened for a while before losing interest. She jumped onto the bed and played with Jet. I wanted to warn her to keep the direwolf off, but now wasn’t the time to be worried about that. Dirty bedsheets were a small price to pay for her peace of mind. I listened until the crowd became too loud to be intelligible.
Is the fight over?
It sure sounded like it was. I strained my ears again, listening for the commentator’s voice in all the noise.
“He did it! C-Rank adventurer Cruise pulls through a victory against all odds!”
Wait, seriously? Cruise won? Really?
“What is it, Teacher?” Fran asked, my surprise hadn’t escaped her.
Well, it sounds like Cruise beat Radule.
“Who’s Cruise?”
I just told you… Never mind. Anyway, you’re almost up. Get ready.
“Hm. Okay.”
Fran ordered Jet to return to the shadows and set me on her back. She finished by storing away the snacks she was munching on. A tournament official came to fetch us, and we left the comfortable confines of the waiting room.
“Right this way.”
“Hm.”
The path to the arena was wide and well-lit.
You nervous?
“Should I be?”
I talked to Fran to ease her nerves, but it didn’t seem like she had any. In fact, she was in such a good mood that she was almost skipping. She couldn’t wait to throw down with whoever this Zehmet was.
Didn’t think you’d be nervous. Guess you’re ready for your first match.
“Can’t wait.”
Jet, only come out on our mark.
Woof.
We passed through the hallway and entered the arena, which was twice as large as the one from the second round. There were about ten times as many spectators, too. No one could make out what they were saying as their thunderous applause combined into a deafening roar, descending on us from the bleachers like a waterfall. It reminded me of the finals of the World Cup back on Earth.
“Ugh.” Fran flopped down her ears.
You all right?
“Hm…I’m fine now.”
Good thing she adapted fast. Exceptional hearing might be a problem here. The deafening applause made me wonder if beastmen like Royce were at a disadvantage. As the loud noise flustered Fran, an unknown voice rang through the arena.
“The time has come for the sixth match of A-Block! Making her way to the ring is the adorable A-11. But don’t let her looks fool you! This is the talk of the town, the newly minted C-Rank, the Swordceress Fran!”
On the commentator’s mark, Fran stepped into the ring. Her opponent was already waiting for her there.
“Hrmph.”
She frowned when she saw what she was facing. It was no exaggeration to say that she was dripping with resentment.
“Her opponent is A-12, the young leader of the mercenary band Blue Pride! One of the up-and-coming figures of the Blue Cat tribe! Blue Lightning Zehmet!”
A Blue Cat. And the leader of Blue Pride, at that. Fran glared at Zehmet and drew me from my sheath. She took a step forward, showing her murderous intent.
I didn’t expect to be fighting another Blue Cat so soon. He was my enemy as long as he was Fran’s. He would’ve been mincemeat by now if we had run into him outside the city walls, but we would have to show some degree of restraint here.
Fran confronted Zehmet in the center of the ring.
“Hey there. Looks like you’ve met one of my people already,” Zehmet said, smiling like some kind of cheap prince.
“…”
‘Met one of your people’? We would’ve killed him if it wouldn’t have disqualified us!
Fran maintained her silent glare.
“Uh, do you have to keep glaring at me?”
“Hmph.” She had no intention of hiding her hostility.
Zehmet responded with a bitter smile, scratching his head. “I-I know! How about we shake hands as a show of good faith?” His smile was friendly as he extended his arm.
“Don’t touch me with your dirty hands.”
“Oh…”
He looked heartbroken. He was putting on quite a show, though. I almost felt sorry for him. But of course he was acting—he was a Blue Cat. Not that I spotted Acting among his skill list…but Blue Cats were the enemies of the Black Cats. It was written in their DNA. That handshake might’ve been followed up with a knife for all I knew.
“…”
And yet Zehmet still stuck out his hand in the hopes that Fran would take it. When she didn’t, he bowed his head to her.
“I’ve suspended Seith.”
“Hm?”
Who’s Seith?
“He’s the guy you beat in the second qualifiers.”
“Because he lost to a Black Cat?”
A proud Blue Cat lost to a lowly Black Cat. I didn’t think the leader of Blue Pride would’ve let him off easy. Maybe “suspend” was code for “hanging,” but Zehmet corrected her.
“No. His words were out of line, even if they were under the pretense of firing up the crowd. I apologize for his sake.”
“…!”
Zehmet hung his head low. The declaration shocked Fran and baffled me, especially because he was telling the truth. I’d activated Essence of Falsehood as soon as Zehmet started talking…but he hadn’t uttered a single lie so far.
“I plan on demoting Seith from his position, as well. I want to eliminate the prejudice against Black Cats.”
Fran was confused by these impossible words. “What are you talking about, Blue Cat? Have you lost your mind?”
“Ha ha…you would think that. And I understand that you don’t believe me. But trust me when I say that I have no intention of underestimating you, and that I despise the slave trade.”
Fran looked at him with suspicion. She couldn’t trust him. Who was to say this wasn’t all a ploy to make her go easy on him? “If you want to fool me, you need to come up with better lies,” she spat, but there were no lies here.
Fran, this guy hasn’t told a single lie so far.
Are you kidding me?
Wish I was. He’s telling the truth. He really is sorry.
Fran bored deep into Zehmet’s eyes. He didn’t waver, because he had nothing to hide. Even so, Fran couldn’t believe it. “You’re lying!” she screamed in a flustered rage.
I sympathized with her confusion. It was like meeting a mob boss who turned out to actually be a good person. The encounter would’ve been difficult to believe under any circumstance, but it was even more impossible to take in right before a battle.
Calm down, Fran. It doesn’t change what we came here to do.
Whether Zehmet was telling the truth or not didn’t matter. For now, we had a fight to win.
“Hm. I’ll cut you down, then think about it,” Fran muttered, readying her blade.
“You’re right. This is not the time for such discussion.” Zehmet had no intention of backing out, either. He drew his blades—one on his back and one on his hip. This guy was a dual-wielder.
He’s strong, Fran.
But he’s a Blue Cat.
Even then, he’s strong.
All right…
Zehmet had a good balance of skills and stats. As a mercenary, he was able to wield multiple weapons, but he preferred swords. No wonder he made it through the qualifiers. He was evolved, too—a Blue Leopard, to be precise. Underestimating him would be a bad move.
Name: Zehmet
Age: 36
Race: Blue Cat; Blue Leopard
Class: Blitz Knight
Level: 53/99
HP: 541; Magic: 236; Strength: 217; Agility: 322
Skills: Stealth 3; Evasion 5; Danger Sense 6; Bow Arts 3; Bow Mastery 4; Vigilance 4; Sword Arts 8; Sword Mastery 10; Advanced Sword Mastery 2; Command 6; Raise Morale 3; Kick Arts 4; Kick Mastery 5; Blink 10; Flash Step 3; Interrogate 4; Spear Arts 2; Spear Mastery 3; Dual Blade Mastery 5; Elemental Blade 2; Climb 7; Poison Resistance 3; Water Magic 3; Paralysis Resistance 2; Spirit Manipulation; Sense of Direction; Night Vision
Class Skill: Awaken; Blitz Blade; Leopard Paw
Titles: Glorious Founder
Equipment: Azure Dragon Fang Shortsword; Adamantine Alloy Longsword; Hydra Full Plate; Greatwing Dragon Feather Cloak; Bracelet of Status Resistance; Ring of Life Regeneration
“Are the contestants ready?”
“Hm.”
“Any time you are.”
“Very well. Begin!”
The fight commenced, and the combatants immediately made their move.
“Haaa!”
“Raargh!”
Fran threw the entire weight of her anger into her swing. While inelegant, the strike could end the fight in one blow. Zehmet crossed his blades together to block her attack, attempting to knock me out of Fran’s hands. She held on tight thanks to her superior strength and Sword Mastery.
They clashed swords, trading blows and weaving in feints to make the other drop their guard. Blow after killing blow was dodged and deflected, and it looked like they were an even match. But Fran dealt with Zehmet’s dual blades with only one of me, and eventually she got the upper hand. Sword Mastery was paying off.
Meanwhile, Zehmet was having trouble keeping up with Fran’s calm and calculated strikes. He had to turn this around before it was too late.
“Blitz Blade!”
“Hmph!”
“Urgh!”
Blitz Blade, the Class Skill of the Blitz Knight, was a high-velocity strike. It was fast, but nothing Fran couldn’t handle. In fact, the attack’s speed made it a prime target for a counter-strike. Zehmet managed to block her counter with his shortsword, but she was getting the hang of it. She’d get him next time for sure. He had the same idea, and stopped using Blitz Blade altogether.
He jumped back a great distance, abandoning his offensive. The ten-meter leap happened so fast that Fran couldn’t keep up.
“Ugh!”
Fran widened her eyes, straining to get a read on Zehmet’s next move. This was probably an effect of his other Class Skill, Leopard Paw.
“You’re very strong,” he said.
Fran stared at Zehmet. Her confusion and doubt had vanished. “You’re not bad, I guess,” she admitted.
“Thank you.”
Fran raised her eyebrows at his honest and straightforward gratitude.
“I knew Black Cats could be strong, too. Discriminating against them is a mistake.”
“…”
Now that Fran had settled down, she was more prepared to accept the man’s honest stance. She finally understood that his earlier apology was authentic.
“Never seen a Blue Cat who wasn’t a piece of garbage.” She held no malice towards him, despite her words. Fran looked at Zehmet with genuine curiosity.
“Heh…yeah… We really do need to change our ways,” Zehmet laughed bitterly. While honest, Fran’s words were still heartbreaking. He readied himself again, remembering that they were still on a battlefield. “But just because I’ve apologized to you doesn’t mean I’m going to let you win. My band’s name is at stake here. I’ll be taking this round.”
“That’s my line.” Fran readied me again, but her curiosity brought a faint smile to her lips.
“Huff…”
I felt Zehmet gather his magical energy.
“Awaken…!”
His body started to swell as soon as he uttered the word. His muscles expanded, especially his thighs and calves. Black and blue spots dotted his body like his namesake, the Blue Leopard.
“The blood of the Blue Leopard enhances all of my physical abilities. I am not the same man you fought earlier. Prepare yourself. Blitz Blade!”
Zehmet disappeared.
CLANG! A high-pitched ring resounded throughout the arena.
“Ungh!”
Fran could only block Zehmet’s strike. The attack came out of nowhere. It felt like he had teleported.
“Didn’t expect you to block it the first time…haaaa!”
Awaken was buffing him. He got an additional thirty to all of his stats, pumping his Agility to over two hundred—on par with some A-Rank adventurers. This was the power of an evolved Blue Cat! This man was the fastest fighter we’d seen to date!
Adding to his already immense speed, he used Flash Step and Leopard Paw to run circles around his enemies. He chipped away at them with Blitz Blade, whittling them away at maximum velocity. A weaker adventurer would’ve been torn to shreds.
Fran avoided all of his meaty strikes. She had spent a lot of time practicing her Sense skills in the dungeon and could anticipate where Zehmet’s attacks were coming from. As long as she could see them, she could deflect them.
“Impossible…!”
Zehmet panicked. As strong as Fran was, he didn’t expect her to defeat his evolved form. He was more experienced, more skilled, more powerful than her. Panic turned to power as he intensified his assault. Zehmet’s plan was to break through Fran’s defenses with sheer speed, but his velocity came at a cost. His attacks were indeed faster, but they lost the feints and combinations which made them so dangerous. His speed might have overwhelmed other fighters, but it had little effect on Fran. In fact, his greatest weapon made him predictable.
“Stone Wall.”
“Ack…!”
A knee-high wall erupted in Zehmet’s way as he came in from behind. The spell launched his body several feet in the air. He was like a bike rider who’d rammed into a guardrail at full speed.
“You saw right through me…?!”
Zehmet was shocked by Fran’s spells, each perfectly anticipating his attack. He really shouldn’t be talking to himself in a fight.
“Inferno Burst.”
“Guh!”
Fran launched a Flame spell at the defenseless Zehmet, but we had underestimated Leopard Paw. He managed to execute something like an Air Hop by kicking out mid-flight. I thought we had him, but the Blue Cat managed to dodge our killing spell.
Damn it!
This guy didn’t know how to quit! No wonder he was the leader of his own mercenary band! But Fran was still in complete control, and I was intent on watching her from the best seat in the house. I remained calm as Inferno Burst dispersed before my eyes, but Fran managed to be even calmer.
“Vernier.”
“When did you…?!”
Fran used the shade cast by her Flame spell to prepare her next attack. She was already accelerating when she saw Zehmet dodge Inferno Burst. If the spell didn’t take him down, then she’d do it herself.
“Haaaa!”
“Gaaaah!”
Fran wasn’t going to lose a battle of velocity. Not even against an Awakened Zehmet. Her sudden speed shocked him, as though she had teleported right behind him. He had never fought anyone faster than him, and was powerless to defend against her. He threw his left sword at her while thrusting his right, but his desperate swings bore no fruit. Fran stored the thrown weapon inside her Pocket Dimension, while the other blade merely grazed her cheek.
“Urgh!”
“Aaaargh!”
In the blink of an eye, she had chopped Zehmet’s foot right off. Dismemberment was probably good enough to secure her victory, but Fran considered the possibility he could recover and threw him out of the ring. Blood gushed in an arc from his amputated foot as he slammed into the wall. Fran stood alone in the center of the ring and smiled. Victory was hers.
“And she’s done it again! An astounding match from both fighters! Did you catch all that, folks? The agility, the grace, the violence? Because this commentator sure didn’t! They were rolling around at the speed of sound!” the commentator blared in resignation.
The fighters of the match had the speed of A-Ranks.
“Your winner is the Enfant Terrible, the Swordceress, Fran! At twelve years old, she is the youngest finalist this tournament has ever seen!”
The crowd burst with applause. I guess Fran just broke the age record.
After her victory over Zehmet, Fran left the clamor of the crowd behind. An official guided her back to the waiting room.
“Congratulations on winning the first round.”
“Hm.”
“Your next fight will be the day after tomorrow. It will be held at the same time as today.”
“Got it.”
“That will be all for now. Feel free to enjoy yourself.”
After making the requisite announcements, the official left and we discussed our plans for the rest of the day.
What now?
I want to see the fights.
Good idea. I think we can make Colbert’s match.
Hm. I want to watch the others, too.
Fran had never had the chance to watch others do battle. Seeing how other combatants handled themselves would be a good experience for her. It would raise her spirits, too.
Let’s get going, then.
Hm.
As we were about to leave the guild, the tournament official called out to us again. “Are you going to watch the fights?”
“Yeah.”
“May I recommend a change of clothes? The spectators might recognize you and cause a ruckus.”
Tournament fans would be able to tell who Fran was at a glance. With all the money riding on the fights, it wasn’t hard to imagine that she would be called out by sore losers and perverts who had a thing for little girls.
“I’ll be discreet.”
“Thank you.”
Nothing a little Stealth and Conceal Presence couldn’t fix. She took a hooded cloak from her Pocket Dimension, put it on, and resumed her trek to the arena. Contestants were allowed to use the back entrance—Fran only needed to flash her adventurer card. Even then, the seats were absolutely packed.
So many people.
No wonder a lot of folks are standing around.
There were no empty seats, and I was beginning to wonder if Fran would have to stand like everyone else. After a few minutes of searching, we saw an entire empty block. Did a whole group just leave?
There we are.
“Hm.”
Fran took a seat, which was in perfectly working order. As I wondered about the reason for the vacancies, the answer came sauntering up.
“What are you sitting around here for?”
“Hm?”
“Reserved seats. Get outta here, kid.”
“Our boss is coming over later, see!”
Some rowdy roughhousers were keeping these seats for themselves, scaring their fellow spectators away with threats. A quick Identify revealed them to be street thugs, strong enough to intimidate regular townsfolk into submission. But Fran was used to meaner adventurers than these. To her, they were nothing more than poorly behaved citizens. She understood that they were picking a fight, and proceeded to give them exactly what they wanted.
“Stun Bolt.”
“Gyaa!”
“Aieee!”
“Oof!”
She knocked out the three men with a single bolt and piled their unconscious bodies in the hallway. The other spectators were shocked at the sudden display of violence, their eyes turning to saucers. They looked away from the two nameless figures duking it out in the ring, and set their gaze firmly on Fran. If this went on, they might even figure out who she was.
Fran, pull your hood down more.
“Hm.”
What should we do with these guys? Just leave them here?
“Hm…Jet?”
“Arf.”
The audience panicked as Jet sprang out of Fran’s shadow. She wasn’t the least bothered and proceeded to load two of the thugs on his back. Jet lifted the third one by his collar.
“Put them away somewhere.”
“Woof.”
“That’ll do it.”
Serves them right. They were causing trouble for everyone here.
Fran sent him off and returned to her seat. The other spectators began to take the seats around her. None of them attempted to talk, having the good sense to avoid whatever she was about. Things settled down, and we were finally able to watch the match.
The thugs’ boss came looking for his lackeys a little later, but one look at Fran was enough to make him turn tail and run. The look on the leader’s face said he knew exactly who’d taken his seat, and he wanted nothing to do with her. That was the only problem we ran into, if you could even call it one.
There was one other issue, I guess. Amanda’s and Colbert’s matches ended so fast that we couldn’t learn anything about them.
Colbert was up against a mage named Akasa. He was a red-haired man decked out in flowing black robes. He certainly looked strong. A quick run through his skill sheet suggested that he used Illusion Magic to make copies of himself before taking his opponent down with a powerful Wind spell. I wouldn’t be surprised if Akasa took notes from Dias.
“Hello, Colbert,” he said, on entering the ring. “It must be my lucky day.”
“You think so?”
“My battle plan is well suited to dealing with fighters like yourself. This match is as good as mine. Victory will be sweet.”
“Heh, well, you sound confident. I just hope you’re not getting ahead of yourself.”
“I have no need to be confident. Our match is a solved equation.”
Akasa had a point. Colbert’s lack of Sense skills meant he would have a hard time against his illusions…
“Take this!”
“Urgh!”
…if only Akasa had time to cast a single spell. Within five seconds of the match’s start, Colbert closed in on the mage and landed a punch square in his gut. That was the end of it. They spent more time talking than fighting.
Akasa’s battle plan consisted of putting some distance between him and his opponent. He had no way of dealing with a faster opponent who could close in quickly. This was the problem with many mages, now that I thought about it. The restricted arena meant that melee fighters had an advantage.
This might be why there were so few mages in the tournament. That information was well worth the five seconds of the fight.
Go in fast when you’re up against mages, I suppose.
Hm!
Amanda’s fight came next, and it was even worse. We couldn’t glean anything from it. She was up against Romucchio, a half-naked man with muscles that out-bulged Elza’s.
“Ga ha ha ha! Looks like I’m fighting one hell of a beauty today!”
“Hello to you, too.”
“Oooh! You get my blood boiling, girl!”
“…”
Amanda smiled, but it soon faded as Romucchio began posing. His skin was oiled, and Amanda looked disgusted as he flexed his muscles. We could feel her intent to kill all the way from the bleachers. Romucchio totally missed the cue. The big muscleman continued his routine, grinning suggestively at Amanda.
“Baby, I’m going to put you into a hard and oily submission!”
“…”
“Then, I’ll bury you in my pecs!”
“Urp.” Amanda gagged slightly before flipping into battle mode.
The match started…
Thwack!
…and ended with a loud explosion. Romucchio was no longer in the ring. The audience didn’t have time to cheer. The big, oily man slammed into a wall with a wet thud. Even the judges needed time to process what just happened.
Amanda had cracked her whip as soon as the match began and sent him flying. The average person wouldn’t have been able to tell what happened, but it didn’t escape our notice.
And here I thought she’d put more effort into it.
“Hm…”
Amanda had been more serious during our last mock battle. I guess she had to hold back to keep from killing Romucchio. The audience laughed as the tournament officials struggled to carry his unconscious body away, but Fran and I were disappointed.
Elza and Charlotte’s fight was much more interesting. Charlotte’s dancing combat style was as artistic as it was dangerous. She literally danced circles around Elza, attacking her with her metal hoop. The large ring was designed not only to cause damage, but also to catch on an opponent’s weapon to yank it from their hands.
Charlotte continued her assault with a Water spell, creating a rainbow as it faded. Combined with her beautiful dancing, the battle looked more like a performance than an all-out brawl. You would be forgiven for thinking of it that way, if it weren’t for the loud shrieks of metal crashing into metal. The crowd loved it, but despite their support, Charlotte wasn’t strong enough to defeat Elza.
“There!”
“Aaahn!”
“Um…what?”
“Oh, that feels so good! Give me more!”
The metal hoop smacked Elza in the rear and she squealed with pleasure. Her reaction startled Charlotte and threw her off balance. Transmute Pain allowed its user to convert pain into pleasure. As if that wasn’t enough, this particular user was a masochist at heart, and I doubted Charlotte had ever encountered anyone like her. She kept up her assault as best she could until a kick from Elza sent her flying.
“I see you!”
“Urgh! How did you—”
“Your feints are getting a little predictable, honey.”
When Elza broke through Charlotte’s illusion-inducing dances, the fight was as good as done.
“Haaa!”
“Kyaaa!”
Dodging Elza’s gigantic mace took everything Charlotte had.
“Hee hee. Gotcha!”
“Agh! No! I can’t get away…”
“You have some nice moves, dear. Just needs a little more oomph.”
“Wait, what are—aaaaah!”
“Buh-bye now!”
Elza caught Charlotte by the back of her neck and flung her out of the ring. With that, the match came to a satisfying end. Both combatants had given it their all.
We learned a lot from the other matches, too—including the creative use of skills I’d never even thought of. For example, there was a bandit who intentionally buffed his opponent’s sense of smell before throwing a stink bomb. We might never need to use that, but it was interesting to see a status buff used to inflict a disadvantage.
We also learned a lot about Steel Magic after seeing it in action. You could melt your opponent’s weaponry and control the arena by heating up parts of the ground, for example. And the subtle usage of Compound Magic made me want to invest a few points in it.
As for Fran, she was more than sufficiently motivated. She fidgeted so much I could feel it through my sheath. She was like a schoolboy watching his friends play a videogame, waiting for his turn.
There’s a lot of strong fighters here.
Hm!
The sun was setting by the time the scheduled fights were over.
Let’s go back to the inn.
“Hmm…” Fran tilted her head.
Or is there somewhere you want to check out first?
Fran took a sword from her Pocket Dimension. It looked familiar. Where had I seen it before?
“I accidentally took Zehmet’s sword.”
Zehmet’s Azure Dragon Fang Shortsword. The one he threw at her in calculated desperation. I’d wondered where that went. The blade was quite strong and would sell for a decent price.
Yeah, we should probably give that back.
“Hm.”
As hostile as Blue Pride was, we couldn’t say the same about Zehmet. I kind of liked him, and Fran seemed to feel the same way.
Jet, can you track his scent?
“Woof!”
No problems there. We followed Jet for a good twenty minutes before he led us to the city outskirts.
Is this the place?
“Woof.”
The empty lot didn’t have much in the way of housing, but there were tents set up here and there. They were tied down with logs, and looked intimidating. Blue Pride probably couldn’t get a place to stay, and so had set up their own little base camp. Paying for the entire crew’s accommodation took money, and the mercenary band was probably used to camping.
How were we supposed to find Zehmet in all these tents? I wanted to avoid contact with the other Blue Cats as much as possible. Suddenly, someone came towards us.
“You!” a girl in her teens shouted furiously. I remembered her pointing her finger at us outside of Aurel’s mansion, along with the rest of Blue Pride. Fran had Intimidated her into submission and left her to Elza’s mercy.
“Do I know you?”
Of course, Fran didn’t remember. But she still hated Blue Cats in general, especially the weak ones.
“Hmph! My name is Selen! Lieutenant of Blue Pride!”
This girl was their lieutenant?! She had terrible stats, although she did have Rhetoric and Threaten under her skills. Maybe she conspired her way to her position? Then again, she didn’t look that smart, either…
“I’m Fran.” Fran had been openly hostile to every Blue Cat she had ever met, but her encounter with Zehmet changed her. She was giving the girl a chance to convince her she didn’t deserve to be ruthlessly beat up.
“I know who you are! You’re only here to mock us! What more could you want?!” Not that Selen was going to return the favor.
“I wanted to give this back.”
“This is…my brother’s sword! You thief!”
So much for preserving civility. But…was this Zehmet’s sister? That explained how she got her position.
“How did a Black Cat like you beat my brother, anyway? It doesn’t make sense!”
“I’m stronger.”
“You’re lying! Black Cats are nothing but trash! You couldn’t have beaten my brother in a fair fight! You must’ve cheated!”
“I didn’t.”
“I know you did! My brother would never have lost to a Black Cat!”
Her angry stomping made her look even more childish than she already was. She really hated the Black Cats. I had a hard time believing that she was related to Zehmet.
“Look, I don’t know what dirty trick you pulled, but give him your spot in the second round and I’ll forgive you!” she said, sounding like she was doing us a favor.
Fran narrowed her eyes. “No.” Her mood was worsening with every word. Zehmet’s fool sister was exhausting all the goodwill her brother had built up.
“Is that supposed to be a joke? Did you not hear what I said? You’re supposed to thank me for forgiving you!”
Was this girl really his sister? She acted nothing like him. Either way, Fran had decided that she wasn’t worth talking to. She pursed her lips and tossed Selen an ice-cold stare.
“…”
“This is the problem with you stupid Black Cats! You don’t know your place!”
“…”
“What are you staring at me for? Do you know what’s going to happen if you don’t resign from the tournament?”
“I don’t.” Fran was furious, but she held back because this girl was Zehmet’s sister. It was admirable, though I didn’t know how much longer she could last.
“Hmph. You Black Cats are only around because we Blue Cats allow you to exist.”
“Urgh.”
“If you don’t retire, you’re not the only one who’s going to pay. We’ll get every last Black Cat and sell you into slavery!”
Bad move. Selen just had to go and say the s-word. Fran had dedicated her life to bettering the living conditions of Black Cats everywhere. The Blue Cat had crossed the line.
“Eeek!”
Fran’s intent to kill was at its peak. Especially since Dias had told her about Kiara. Well, we tried. This girl was a lost cause. We might have to annihilate Blue Pride altogether. I felt bad for Zehmet, but his crew seemed to be stereotypical Blue Cat scum. Better to wipe them off the map in case the survivors tried to take revenge on us.
Selen screamed in fear, her face growing pale at Fran’s murderous aura. She fell on her rear and trembled, not even noticing the fluid pooling on the ground around her.
“Aaah…!”
Her pathetic cry was barely intelligible, but Fran was past the point of sympathy. She drew me without a word and swung, her eyes brimming with cold fury. It was overkill, but Selen brought it on herself.
However, the blow never landed. A figure bolted out to cover her with the speed of a bullet.
“Urfh…!”
“B-brother!”
Zehmet took the blade that was meant for his sister. It went through his ribs and into his left lung. Selen glared at Fran, but Zehmet turned on his sister.
“Why…must you have such an unruly mouth…?!”
“Brother, are you all right?! Black Cat…! How dare you—?!”
“Stop…!”
“Yah!”
Zehmet slapped Selen. He was weakened by the injury, but the force of the strike was still enough to knock the girl back, marking her cheek with red fury. She sat in stunned silence, not understanding what was happening.
Meanwhile, Zehmet proceeded to fall on his face, apologizing to Fran for his sister’s wrongdoing. Blood seeped from his open wound.
“I apologize…for my foolish sister…”
“I’m sorry.” But Fran refused to back down. Her murderous thoughts had already overwhelmed her.
“I won’t…let them say anything so foolish ever again…! I’ll retrain them…anyone who refuses will be let go… no… I’ll sell them into slavery myself!” Zehmet declared, making clear that this policy would even apply to his sister.
He knew this was the only hope of quelling Fran’s rage. Their fight in the tournament told him that she was vastly superior to his entire crew. She would have no problem annihilating them all.
“Brother, what are you saying? Why are you apologizing to that—ah!”
“Quiet…”
He batted his own sister away as she crawled towards him. Quite hard, too. She hurtled several meters away before she stopped, unconscious.
“I am sorry…please forgive me.”
Zehmet might die mid-apology. His strength was steadily draining away. The commotion hadn’t gone unnoticed, and I sensed the other Blue Cats peeking out to see what was going on.
Fran? The rest of Blue Pride is moving in.
“I am so…so sorry,” he said.
“Ugh.”
Do what you think is right. I’m with you all the way.
“Greater Heal.”
Although she hesitated, Fran healed Zehmet’s wounds. She still hated their whole tribe, but she wasn’t going to take it out on the one Blue Cat she could actually get along with.
“I’m leaving. If you haven’t changed your ways the next time I see you, your crew is done.”
“Thank you so much!” Zehmet fell on his face again, knowing he had evaded the full weight of Fran’s wrath by inches. Fran didn’t answer, but turned around and ran. Conflicting emotions raged inside her.
Are you sure you should’ve let them go?
“I didn’t. I just delayed the inevitable.”
Well, as long as you’re okay with it.
Fran ran with no destination in mind. The only thing she wanted was to sort out her jumbled-up feelings. People stared at her as she zipped past, but it couldn’t be helped. She could run all she wanted if it meant she felt better.
A few minutes later, she was finally settled down. She walked slowly, her raging emotions suppressed by exhaustion. Some thugs set their eyes on her, but I did them a favor and dealt with them using Telekinesis. If they’d tried anything funny, Fran would have vented her rage. Fortunately, no one was stupid enough to mess with a girl emitting such a dangerous aura.
“…”
Of course she was in a bad mood. She had finally entertained the possibility of a friendship with Zehmet. Maybe he wasn’t the only decent member of his tribe, but in the end, Blue Cats will be Blue Cats. Zehmet was the exception.
I didn’t know if we could fix our relationship with him. Fran certainly wanted to be friends, but if we ran into his crew again, we would probably end up fighting. Worse, she might end up killing him. She certainly couldn’t forgive Selen, who’d pissed me off too, to be honest. She talked about selling people into slavery like selling a piece of armor. If Zehmet hadn’t protected her, she would be dead.
Fran walked around town in a storm of emotions. About twenty minutes later, she stopped and turned around.
This aura…
“Beast King?”
The explosion of mana and aggression came from the direction of the Blue Pride encampment. Even from this great distance, we could feel it.
“…!”
Fran panicked, and ran back the way she had come. There was no mistaking the Beast King’s mana. It didn’t feel like he was merely stretching his legs, either. As confused as Fran was, she channeled all her energy into speed—her camaraderie with Zehmet mixed with her fear of the Beast King.
Are you sure, Fran? The Beast King is there!
“Hm!”
I couldn’t tell whether she was prepared to face the consequences of her actions, but Fran knew there was no going back. She sprinted the whole way back to the encampment, and we reached it not five minutes later.
“Huff…huff…!”
It’s him!
The encampment was engulfed in flames. The Beast King stood in the center of the holocaust, wreathed in golden fire. The scene looked like an illustration straight from a tyrant’s repertoire. His silence loomed over the encampment.
Zehmet was on the ground, seemingly burnt to a crisp. His armor was heated to the point that it looked like hard candy, while the leather had turned to ash. One look was enough to tell that he was nearly dead.
The Beast King’s stats had grown since we last saw him. He looked different, too. His hair stood on end, framing his face in a mane. Black rings surrounded his eyes, and his fangs extended past his lips. He looked like a lion in its full glory.
He’s evolved…
The Beast King was using his Awakened form, just like Zehmet had when he fought Fran.
“Now, what kind of idiot would go against my orders like that?”
“Urgh…”
“Well, time to put you out of your misery.”
The Beast King gathered fire in his right hand. Fran didn’t hesitate.
“I’m going, Teacher!”
She didn’t even wait for my answer before leaping into action. She grasped me in her right hand and equipped the instant-kill sword, Death Gaze, in her left. She cast a spell to accelerate herself, and sped towards the Beast King like a bullet. But she kept quiet, suppressing her murderous aura. Fran wasn’t in a blind rage. This was a calculated effort to take the Beast King’s life.
His Sense skills were good, but not as good as Dias’. Considering he was an S-Rank, they certainly could be better. Fran could have shouted to stop him from killing Zehmet, but it would be a bad move. Zehmet would die if it didn’t work, and it would strip Fran of the element of surprise. This was her only chance. She had to take the initiative. There was a high likelihood that this would end badly one way or another, but Fran had made her choice.
She would try to decapitate him with one strike. Fran wasn’t thinking about the potential consequences: becoming a fugitive of the beastman nation or the political scandal that might arise from an assassination attempt. Her only priority was saving Zehmet’s life.
Besides, the Beast King’s Bracelet of Sacrifice would save him from instant death. As bad as an assassination attempt would look, an actual assassination might throw the world into war. The Bracelet of Sacrifice probably emboldened Fran. He would die, it would activate, and the time it took to raise him from the dead would be enough to save Zehmet.
If I was thinking only of Fran’s safety, I would teleport us out of here and let the Beast King have his way. I knew that was the best option. But I also knew that Fran wouldn’t be satisfied with that. If her safety was my only priority, I would’ve stopped her from becoming an adventurer in the first place. I wanted to go adventuring with her. I was her guardian as well as her sword. My job was to protect her while carrying out her will. If she wanted to jump off a cliff, my job was to make sure she landed safely. I had Fran’s back, for better or worse.
Fran crossed her swords as she charged towards the Beast King’s back. She focused her mana on the blades, which looked like a pair of giant scissors. Surely this would penetrate the Beast King’s defenses, no matter how powerful he was. She closed her menacing shears on the Beast King’s neck.
“…?!”
The blades didn’t even scratch him. Fran couldn’t believe it. She looked at me in utter shock.
“No!”
“What? And who are you supposed to be?” At least her attempt on the Beast King’s life had distracted him from Zehmet, although his full attention was now on her.
Fran couldn’t answer. Her face was pale as she stared at me.
Death Gaze had broken in the assault, and so had I. The only things left were my hilt and handle.
Fran couldn’t understand it. However, as the offended party, I knew exactly what had happened. The golden flames wrapped around the Beast King’s body had melted me and Death Gaze as soon as we touched them. The fire was hot enough to boil cold steel. I suspected that the only reason it didn’t raze the place where the Beast King stood was because of one of his skills.
“Teacher!” Fran called out in her panic.
“Teacher? Who are you talking about?” The Beast King looked at her quizzically.
Calm down, Fran. I’m all right. Switch to Telepathy for now.
Thank goodness…
Fortunately, the damage wasn’t anything I couldn’t recover from, although regenerating from a literal meltdown took a lot of mana. Good thing I had Self-Repair.
Death Gaze was probably a goner. I couldn’t detect any mana coming from it. Fran’s Black Cat Cloak wasn’t repairing itself from the peripheral burns, either. Maybe it was still fixing itself, but it was definitely taking longer than usual.
How do we get past those flames…?
They were dangerous, and not just because of their destructive power. The flames reacted even when the Beast King had his back to us. It was a powerful automatic shield. How much stronger would it be if the Beast King actually directed it? Dodging it would be difficult; blocking downright impossible.
“You this Blue Cat’s disciple?”
“…”
“Answer me, kid.”
“What…did you do to Zehmet?”
Fran glared at him. The Beast King shrugged in response. He didn’t seem pleased with her attitude, but his eyes were grinning with delight. I knew those eyes well. They were as battle hungry as Fran’s.
“Heh. You’re not supposed to answer a question with another question. Manners wouldn’t kill you, Black Cat.”
His condescending tone made Fran grind her teeth. She suppressed her anger and asked again. “Why are you killing him?”
“You hard of hearing or something? Fine. Disciplinary action against an unruly subordinate, that’s why.”
Unruly subordinate… So Zehmet was one of his men. Did he go against the Beast King’s orders? Zehmet was for Black Cats and the Beast King was against them. Was that it?
“Anyway, you seem to be chummy with him. Can’t imagine why, what with you being Black and him Blue.”
“Hm…”
“Hang on, did your sword just fix itself? Neat.”
Instant Regeneration brought my blade back quickly, but it was probably useless against him. Keeping our distance with spells was the better approach. Frost and Water were our best bets against Flame. Putting points into those two magicks seemed like a pretty good idea.
“Fran…don’t…”
“I’ll save you, Zehmet.”
“Ha ha ha! Such beautiful friendship between a Black Cat and a Blue! It’d be funny if it weren’t so twisted!”
“Shut up…” Zehmet spat.
The king turned to the dying leader of Blue Pride with an entertained smirk. “You can still talk? Impressive. It’s a shame, you know? You had so much potential. Kid, you’re about to see what happens to those who oppose me. You’re about to feel the wrath of Rigdith Nalasincha!”
The flames around Rigdith danced more violently. Just grazing those golden flames would be the end of us.
Fran and the Beast King clashed in an explosion of aggression.
“Haaa…!”
Fran made the first move. Instead of leaping back, she charged right at him.
“Ha ha ha! You actually made it through my Intimidate! Very good!”
She shot at him with a water-element Aura Blade, but alas, it was immediately evaporated by the Beast King’s flames. Immediately after nullifying her attack, the flames snaked towards her.
“Hm!”
“Hah! Nice dodge!”
Fran leapt backwards at the last moment. That was close. These things were much faster than I thought.
Those flames are downright deadly!
“Hm!”
“So, what’s your next move? You gonna charge in, knowing you’ll get burned to cinders?”
“Stun Bolt!”
Pale blue lightning shot towards the Beast King. It had no effect on him, though. He grinned as if he knew it was coming.
“Wow, you can use magic, too? Great! You’re gonna have to do better than that to hurt me, though.”
He had Magic Resistance along with a high Magic stat. The golden flames even acted as a shield against spells.
“How about this?! Hexagon Tornado!”
Fran cast a high-level Wind spell. The six-sided whirlwind closed in around the Beast King. Wind blades cut anything inside the hexagonal cage. They were fast enough to chop off limbs; goblins would be mincemeat by now.
The Beast King, however, only laughed. As the six-sided whirlwind closed in, he waved his right hand.
Fwoom!
“You can delay your incantations? What is that, Instant Cast? Good, but not good enough. That ain’t enough to even scratch me.”
Melee didn’t work and magic was ineffective. We were screwed.
“My turn. Ready?”
The Beast King made a gesture and I charged my telekinetic energy. It wasn’t clear what the gesture meant, but primordial fear had taken over. This was the first time I had ever experienced true terror. Fran agreed, and accelerated away with magic. Cold sweat ran down her face, but this was the right move.
Golden flames burned the spot where Fran had been standing. If I hadn’t held the blast back, and Fran hadn’t jumped, we would’ve been a pile of ash.
“Good instinct! How about this?!”
The Beast King waved his hand again. The golden flame split, turning into a kind of fiery hydra, speeding towards us from all directions. He could even control the flame in precise movements!
“Ugh!” Fran dodged, but they got close enough to blister. The intense heat was terrifying.
“Really? You’ve got spunk, kid! Try this one on for size!”
“Urgh…”
The flames chased harder and faster. Fran shot off some water spells and barely escaped being burned alive.
“You’re doing great, kid! Have some more!”
The Beast King howled with laughter as he added more heads to the flaming hydra. He was close to overwhelming us. We only needed to stop him for a second to heal Zehmet and get the hell out of there…but he seemed unstoppable. He hadn’t even moved an inch. The fact that he could chase us down without moving underlined the difference in power. Should we run, or use our trump card? We had to decide.
Fran!
Teacher…we have to use it! Fran wasn’t going to leave Zehmet behind.
All right! Time for our ace in the hole!
I’m sure that’ll work!
You’re right.
The Beast King’s lips curled into a feral smile as he saw Fran drop into a crouch. “What’s this? Are you getting something ready?”
“Haaaa—”
The Beast King changed his stance for the first time in the fight. He felt Fran’s increase in energy and responded in kind. Tensions mounted as they prepared for a battle to the death.
“What do you think you’re doing, Your Majesty?!”
And with that, the tension was immediately dispelled. Two figures approached us. The one in front had the frankness of an annoyed parent as he entered the battleground’s deadly aura, and I recognized him at once. This was Rosch, the coachman of the Beast King’s carriage.
Name: Rosch
Age: 37
Race: White Weasel Tribe/White Curse Skunk
Class: Hunter Mage
Level: 62/99
HP: 556; Magic: 758; Strength: 251; Agility: 539
Skills: Sensitive Sole 4; Dig 6; Stealth 8; Wind Magic 4; Bow Arts 9; Bow Mastery 10; Advanced Bow Mastery 1; Coachman 7; Vigilance 8; Presence Sense 10; Conceal Presence 7; Flexibility 4; Blink 8; Hush 5; Abnormal Status Resistance 4; Everyday Magic 3; Mental Status Resistance 5; Dagger Arts 4; Dagger Mastery 5; Perfumer 8; Jump 6; Climb 5; Venomology 8; Poison Magic 5; Earth Magic 7; Burrow 5; Fire Magic 5; Magic Resistance 3; Mana Sense 7; Nightshade 7; Disarm Trap 6; Trap Sense 8; Lay Trap 4; Spirit Manipulation; Enhanced Olfactory; Enhanced Touch; Mana Manipulation; Enhanced Hearing
Class Skill: Awaken; Curse Strike
Titles: Chimera Slayer; Dungeon Conqueror
Equipment: Hades Wood Bow; Dimension Quiver; Blackshade Beast Boots; Shadowplate Gauntlets; Black Stealth Spider Cloak; Bracelet of Dexterity; Bracelet of Storage
A hunter and a competent scout… This Rosch looked like an all-rounder. He was strong, too—about as strong as an A-Rank adventurer. The man put his hands on his waist. It was a childish gesture considering his age, but it somehow looked natural on him.
“Damn it, Rosch…”
“I take my eyes off you for one second!” Rosch lectured the Beast King. The lean, gray-haired man took a potion out of his pocket and emptied it over Zehmet. It must’ve been a potent one, because Zehmet’s grave wounds immediately started to heal. He was now only half dead instead of nearly dead.
“I can’t believe you would fight a Black Cat… Have you forgotten your mission?!”
“No, look. This girl is friends with Blue Pride for some reason…”
“That is no excuse. You didn’t have to send a blazing inferno after her! You were about to kill her, you muscle-brained dolt!”
“Now now, Rosch,” the second of the new arrivals cut in. It was Royce. “Lord Rig, we have apprehended the members of Blue Pride who are suspected of dealing in the slave trade. The rest have been dealt with in self-defense.”
Wait…what?
They’d captured the members of Blue Pride who were involved in slavery? What was the Beast King playing at?
It was clear the fight was over. Fran still maintained her guard, but her murderous intent was gone. Royce was already tending to Zehmet with some healing spells. This might just be the biggest misunderstanding we’d gotten ourselves into yet.
Fran turned to the Beast King. “What’s going on?”
“You didn’t tell her, did you, Your Majesty?”
“Well…umm…” The Beast King avoided Royce’s gaze and scratched his cheek.
“You picked a fight with her on the spot without trying to explain the circumstances, didn’t you?”
“Urk…” The Beast King bit his lip. He looked like a child in the middle of being scolded.
“Are you hurt, young lady?”
“No…”
“Really now? That’s amazing. And are you involved with Blue Pride?”
Fran looked troubled by the degree of respect Rosch was showing her. “I’m friends with Zehmet. Just him, though. I hate the rest of them.”
“I see. Your Highness?”
“Well, isn’t this an interesting turn of events?”
Rosch and Royce stared at the Beast King until the ruler threw his hands up in defeat.
“Fine! I’m sorry! Gods!”
“Why were you trying to kill Zehmet?”
“He was covering for the rest of his crew.”
“Goodness… Allow me to explain,” said Rosch. “This has been a fundamental misunderstanding. His Majesty the Beast King is apprehending Blue Cats in order to protect Black Cats.”
“What?”
“I knew it…”
The story unfolded from there. Apparently, Beast King Rigdith was opposed to slavery and was, in fact, trying to put a stop to it. That was what had prompted his coup against his own father. He’d killed the previous king to take his place on the throne.
“The old man didn’t put up much of a fight. All the bribes he took made him weak.”
“That man was a politician first and foremost,” Royce agreed, unfazed.
Rigdith had become an adventurer so he could execute his coup. When all the A-Ranks in the beastman country were his to command, it was easy to overthrow the previous king. He got rid of the slavers and spies his father kept, and was now on a mission to set the Black Cats free.
And I didn’t detect a single lie in any of that.
The Beast King really wanted to set the Black Cats free, and he really was in the middle of putting an end to the slave trade. Fran couldn’t believe it. “So why were you fighting with Zehmet?” she asked again, still suspicious.
If Zehmet had obeyed Rigdith’s orders to hand over the slavers in Blue Pride, he probably would’ve gotten away with a slap on the wrist. But Blue Pride was like his family, and he couldn’t bring himself to betray them, even if they deserved it. He’d pleaded with the Beast King to delay his judgment and give them time to change. Given Rigdith’s temper, that was enough to bring them to blows. That was when Fran interrupted.
Now that I thought about it, Rigdith had never actually belittled the Black Cats. He’d said, “Anyway, you seem to be chummy with him. Can’t imagine why, what with you being Black and him Blue,” and “Such beautiful friendship between a Black Cat and a Blue! It’d be funny if it weren’t so twisted!”
Clearly, he’d meant all of that. He might have been provoking Fran, but he genuinely couldn’t understand why she was defending Zehmet. As we continued our conversation, his guards brought in the captured members of Blue Pride.
“Curses…” Zehmet lamented, still on his knees.
“Hate me all you want. But I was clear when I told the Blue Cat tribe to put a stop to that slavery stuff. Your men and your sister ignored my explicit orders. You’re partly responsible for this.”
“I…understand.” The Beat King’s words only deepened Zehmet’s pain. If he’d known about his tribe’s underhanded dealings, he could have acted sooner. All of this might have been avoided. “How many…are left?”
“About twenty.”
“I…I see.” That seemed to sap the life out of Zehmet. Blue Pride had been a large mercenary band. Only twenty survivors? I couldn’t imagine his pain.
“The ringleaders, Lord Rig.” Gaudartha brought two Blue Cats forward. They were bound and tied, and he held the rope. “These are the two members of the previous Beast King’s slave syndicate.”
“Senec, Tord…have you been lying to us all?” Zehmet sounded dumbfounded that the two old cats had been apprehended. He must’ve trusted these two with his life.
Much as he must have wanted them to deny it, the old men knew that the time for excuses was past. “Hmph…damn Black Cats can’t even evolve… What’s wrong with putting them to work…?”
“That’s right! If anything, we’re making their existence worthwhile!”
“But you’ve always supported us. All the way back since my grandfather’s time…”
Senec and Tord had been with Blue Pride since it was a small crew. They’d only held advisory positions of late, but still took advantage of their station to carry out underhanded deals behind the scenes. They’d brought Zehmet up to hate slavery as a cover, so that no one would ever suspect them. The rest of the tribe, like Zehmet’s little sister, were taught to see Black Cats as inferior filth. The old schemers were good at hiding their crimes, and knew that even if Zehmet found out, he was far too kind to suspect them.
“But I suppose we went too far in your education. All that idealistic nonsense really got on my nerves.” Senec’s scoff was aimed at Zehmet as much as Rigdith.
“Big talk for a Tailless,” said Fran.
“Don’t you dare call me that!”
Tailless? I asked.
Beastmen who have lost their tails.
Tails were a status symbol among long-tailed tribes. You could easily lose yours in the heat of battle, especially if you were trying to flee. The old man Senec lacked his tail. I’d thought he might be hiding it in his pants, but apparently that wasn’t something beastmen did.
I guess you learn something new every day.
He glared at Fran. “If it weren’t for you Black Cats…my tail would be…”
“Hm?”
“Damn you! Don’t look at me! You look just like her…!”
“Her?”
“Her! Kiara! The little brat who took my tail!”
“You know Kiara?”
“Damn right I do! Good riddance to that filthy little wench!”
These old men knew the Black Cat adventurer who’d set off to find the secret to Evolution fifty years ago, who we suspected was kidnapped by the Blue Cats on the previous Beast King’s orders. She must’ve had a run-in with Blue Pride. No wonder they were eager for revenge.
“Good thing the old Beast King dealt with her! She’s probably a slave in some terrible corner of the world! Good riddance! Mwa ha ha!” Senec cackled.
Fran approached him with me in her hand. Watching the old man laugh at the misery of her kind sent her over the edge. She seethed with rage.
Fran, wait!
Senec and Tord probably had information on the slave syndicate, and killing them would probably upset the Beast King.
You can’t kill them!
“Hrmph…”
You can do whatever else you want, but don’t kill them!
Fine.
Fran stopped, although her rage was far from quelled. I had no intention of preventing her from letting it out. She got down to Senec’s level and struck him across the face. The Beast King allowed it, knowing that—painful as it was—she was pulling her punches.
“Aaargh! Aiee! Gaaah!”
“Heal.”
“What? Aaaargh! Ack!”
“Heal.”
“Aieee! P-please, no mo—hurk!”
Senec had no escape. He could only howl for mercy. Fran healed him whenever he started to faint, denying him the pleasure of unconsciousness. She beat him—I counted thirty punches, at least—until Senec’s tears and stomach acid finally moved her to stop.
She worked on Tord next. He immediately pleaded for forgiveness, but it was too late for apologies—fifty years too late.
“Hmph.”
“Aaargh! Oorf! Hurk!”
“Heal.”
Another thirty or so punches later, Fran stopped. Zehmet could only watch as his elders got their just desserts. As deserving as they were of the beatdown, the brutal sight still evoked Zehmet’s pity. When she finally stopped, he sighed in relief.
“Heal.”
“Huh?”
Only problem was, Fran wasn’t done yet.
“Your turn again.”
Fran healed Senec and resumed her punishment. She probably needed a few more laps to calm down.
Zehmet shouted in protest. “W-wait! There’s no need to… Well…I guess after all they’ve done…”
He backed down, remembering their crimes. He might still have tried to stop her if there was plausible deniability, but the accused had admitted quite loudly that they were to blame for Kiara’s disappearance, not to mention the slavery. He knew that Fran was completely justified.
However, someone else stopped her—someone we didn’t expect.
“Calm down, kid. I know you can heal him, but I can’t risk breaking his mind. We still got questions for them both,” said the Beast King.
Unable to ignore him, Fran stopped. Rigdith bent over Senec and threw him a question. “So, by Kiara, do you mean Old Kiara?”
The question startled the old man. “Old…Kiara?”
“You know: amazing swordswoman, quiet, always looks like she’s chewing on a sour lemon? Uhh…how old is she again, Royce?”
“Inquiring about the master’s age is akin to suicide, Lord Rig.”
“Godo?”
“I hear she turned sixty some years ago,” Gaudartha answered. “She’s probably in her late sixties now.”
“All right. So when did my old man kidnap your Kiara?”
“About fifty years ago,” Fran answered for Senec.
“Do you know how old she was then?”
“Fifteen, I think.” If she were still alive now, she’d be sixty-eight.
“I see… Well, that settles it. The Kiara you’re talking about is our master, Old Kiara.”
Did he just refer to Kiara as his master? Fran rushed towards the Beast King.
“What? What do you mean?” She got up in his face, all her fear gone.
“You know, I’m still royalty. You ever hear of etiquette?”
“Talk.”
“Oh fine, dammit! Just get off.”
“Hm.”
Rigdith was weaker under pressure than he looked. The Beast King scratched his cheek and explained.
When Rigdith was a young lad, he met a Black Cat slave going about her duties in the Beast King’s court. Like every other beastman, he’d looked down on her. All that changed when he turned seven, and an enemy conjurer sneaked into the palace. He’d summoned a terrible monster that killed most of the king’s warriors and soldiers. Gaudartha, a new recruit, was half-dead. Royce, then an apprentice mage, was gravely wounded. Rigdith himself was almost killed.
The attack had taken place during a war, when the king’s finest men were out on the frontlines. There was no one to stop the rampaging Tyrant Sabertooth monster, and all the ways out, even the wells, had been deviously blocked off.
“I was so scared that I thought I was seeing things.”
The Black Cat slave, whose only job was waste disposal, had disposed of the menacing monster in seconds. The Tyrant Sabertooth might have been just a cub, but it was still a C-level threat. The Black Cat had fended it off and killed it with a mop. No wonder the young Rigdith had thought he was hallucinating. Anyone would.
Rigdith was even more shocked when he learned that the woman’s sole duty was taking out the trash. With her abilities, she could easily have been a conscripted slave, purchased to serve in the army. Her talents were wasted on menial labor. How did she get so strong?
The Black Cat’s name was Kiara, and she became his first friend. Because of his status, young Rigdith had no companions, but Kiara didn’t seem to care. He decided she should teach him how to fight. Kiara was opposed to this at first, but Rigdith wore her down.
Kiara’s spartan discipline made the young Rigdith strong in body and mind. Soon, Gaudartha and Royce became Kiara’s secret disciples, as well. The young prince didn’t ask them to, but they saw what the Black Cat was capable of with their own eyes. They sheepishly asked her, and she shrugged as she accepted. What was two more pupils to teach?
That said, they had to train in secret. Kiara’s only condition was that they not tell a soul—especially among the nobility. She knew there would be trouble if word got out that the prince was being taught by a slave.
Now, standing before us, the three beastmen recalled their days of training in the sewers, reeking of death and corruption.
“Not a day went by that I didn’t nearly die.”
“Agreed. Master Kiara is a harsh taskmaster.”
“They said military training was hell, but it felt like a spa compared to Master’s tutelage.”
Eventually, Rigdith tried to free Kiara from slavery, but she objected, explaining that his father had threatened to kill other Black Cats should she try to escape. The king had only spared her life because of her strength. Mercy had nothing to do with it. If Kiara had fought back, she and other members of the Black Cat tribe would’ve been killed.
Although he couldn’t free her, their time together changed something in young Rigdith’s mind. Rig opposed the widespread discrimination against Black Cats, and began his mission to free them. He started by looking into the secrets of Black Cat Evolution—the inability which was the main cause of their slavery. He didn’t have much luck until his father pulled him aside to let him in on a secret which only the royal family was privy to: the secret of the feud between the reigning royal family and the Black Cats, and how that feud made the Black Cat tribe lose their ability to evolve.
“The old man must’ve thought he was doing me a favor, trying to wake me up. Probably thought it’d get me to stop defending them.”
But it had the complete opposite effect. Even if the powers that be allowed it, Rig knew the way the Black Cats were treated was wrong. In fact, the knowledge only increased his resolve. Arguments between the king and his son grew until they eventually exploded into a full-blown coup. Rigdith emerged the victor.
Teacher?
He’s telling the truth.
The Beast King wasn’t lying, for the most part. What few lies I sensed were in his comments about Kiara being “a lonely old hag who had no sense of common decency.” Rigdith was incredibly roundabout with the people he cared for.
“How is she now?”
“She’s back in the castle. Mostly retired, what with her age. Spends most of her days sleeping, although she still trains the soldiers when she feels up to it.”
“Not a soul in the court ever ridicules the Black Cats for being weak now,” said Royce.
“You can say that again,” the Beast King agreed.
Fran didn’t know how to respond. She could only stare in stunned silence.
Senec, of all people, was the one who spoke up to object. “I won’t have it! Are you going to eliminate the Blue Cats and replace us out of spite?!”
“Old man, it’s got nothing to do with race. I’m just using the best people for the job. Still, the Black Cats are long overdue for a break.”
“Do you really not understand the position your tribe is in?” Royce said.
There were two major reasons why the Blue Cats might end up like the Black Cats they oppressed. First, the slave trade. Their custom of enslaving Black Cats made it hard for the other tribes to trust them. Unbelievable as it might sound, the Blue Cats used to work for the Black Cats. In fact, it might be the reversal of this very relationship that made the other tribes as wary of them as they were.
Second, there had been a dramatic weakening of the Blue Cats’ abilities. Because of their focus on trade—especially slaves—the Blue Cats had made themselves exempt from fighting and hard labor. They had few warriors, and even fewer evolved. Zehmet was the exception. Most of the Blue Cats today were descendants of the previous Beast King’s slavers. Those who dared oppose the old king had been dealt with. Their entire class of fighters were killed and replaced with slave merchants. The Blue Cats of today hated fighting, and much preferred to resort to underhanded tricks. The other tribes didn’t think much of them.
Fran wasn’t much for politics. She only wanted to make the lives of Black Cats better, and that didn’t necessarily involve making the lives of the Blue Cats worse. Still, she kicked Senec in the face to shut him up.
“I’m just glad to hear Kiara’s still alive,” she told the Beast King. “Can I tell other people about this?”
“Who do you have in mind?”
“Dias and Aurel. They’re her friends. They haven’t stopped worrying about her since they heard she got kidnapped.”
The Beast King nodded. “For real? No wonder they were glaring daggers at me! Sure, go for it. In fact, I’ll tell them for you. I’m going to meet them, anyway.”
“Please.”
“I know you still got questions, but I’m busy the next couple days. Meet me again after you finish the tournament.”
“All right.”
“It’s a date,” said the Beast King. “Now go out there and entertain us, huh? If you make it past the third round, I might actually listen to what you have to say.” He grinned playfully.
Having lost her fear, Fran replied firmly. “Third round? I’m going to win this entire thing.”
“Ha ha ha! You guys hear that? She’s putting you both on notice!”
Royce nodded calmly while Gaudartha gave her a warrior’s smirk. “The enthusiasm of the young does good to one’s heart.”
“Indeed. Don’t think that we’ll go easy on you.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Bwa ha ha ha! You even got a response out of these two! Oh, this is great. Come over after you win and show me your big trophy. Catch you later, Fran.”
The conversation ended on a cheery note as the Beast King took Zehmet inside a tent with the surviving members of Blue Pride. Zehmet was about to turn around to say something, but Rigdith forced him to keep walking. Royce noticed Fran’s worried look.
“We’re going to discuss boring political matters. You can run along now, if you wish.”
Even so, Fran needed to know. “What’s going to happen to Zehmet?”
“Ah. Well, he is guilty of going against the absolute word of our monarch, but Lord Rigdith seems interested in him. I am sure nothing bad will befall him.”
“All right.”
Rigdith didn’t seem to be the sort to go overboard, and he knew that Zehmet would be a good ally. It wouldn’t make sense to execute him.
As we left the Blue Cat encampment, Fran was in high spirits. She was motivated before, but now it had transformed into firm resolve.
We have to get to the third round, now.
“Hm! We have to go all out, Teacher.”
The tournament was no longer a hypothetical test.
You’re right.
“We’ll definitely win!” Fran said under her breath, the flames of resolve quietly roaring inside her.
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