Chapter 97: Underground Arena (3)
“Didn’t they say no champion would show?”
“I heard he’s injured. Drank poisoned liquor and is recovering.”
“Hmm… An excuse? Looks like he fled from that Harang guy’s montum…”
“Lots of people think that. But I’m not sure.”
“Why?”
“That Harang guy doesn’t seem that strong.”
“Hmm, I think so too. On the surface… that guy next to him, Ulrik, right?”
“Yeah, Ulrik. He looks stronger. I heard he’s Harang’s ntor…”
Bang.
“Gah! They’re here!”
“What? Who’s… Ugh!”
The two drunkards passionately discussing arena fighters suddenly shut up.
They weren’t alone.
Everyone in the tavern, mid-drink, turned to the open door, quickly bowing their heads in silence.
It was as if the lively place had frozen.
But it was inevitable.
Harang, the dark horse stirring up the underground arena!
Ulrik, the fearso swordsman said to be his ntor!
Who’d dare raise their voice when those two appeared?
Then, Ulrik tapped his scabbard and surveyed the tavern, speaking in a deep voice.
“My apologies. It seems our presence disturbed the rest of Kalbaron’s residents.”
“N-no, that’s not it…!”
“It’s fine. We’re okay.”
“Yeah, really! It’s not like that…”
Excuses poured out.
They had no choice.
Who’d dare offend a swordsman who’d reached the arena’s deepest floors and his ntor?
Fortunately, Ulrik didn’t seem too upset.
With a faint smile, he spoke softly.
“We’ll head upstairs to chat, so please relax without minding us. Farewell.”
With that, Ulrik and I ascended to the second-floor room.
The drunkards’ gazes held a hint of admiration.
“Impressive.”
“No kidding. A powerhouse like that, yet so considerate…”
“Unbelievable. A man of such character in a cesspool like Kalbaron.”
“But that Harang guy, the more I see him, the less I get him.”
“Exactly. Like he’s all stiff in the neck and shoulders?”
“He looks… unimpressive?”
“Yeah, unimpressive. That’s the word.”
“How’d soone like that reach the championship match? Though I hear he fights well in the ring.”
“Probably because he’s Ulrik’s disciple. Weird guy, though.”
‘I can hear everything.’
Overhearing the drunkards before entering the second-floor room, I wore a gloomy expression.
It was tough.
I still hadn’t mastered Ulrik’s “looking impressive.”
It was probably due to my assassin nature, always suppressing my presence.
Ulrik comforted .
“It took years to master this, so don’t be too anxious.”
“Understood.”
“Don’t think of it as acting. Convince yourself you’re the best, the strongest… Like self-hypnosis. No, forget the word hypnosis. It’s natural, you being the best is common sense in this world… Think that way, and a natural, majestic presence will erge.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Now, then…”
Trailing off, Ulrik glanced around at the door, windows, and surroundings.
An action that would look pathetic on anyone else looked cool when he did it.
Like an adventurer from a story, pursued by countless assassins.
‘I have to learn this.’
My determination flared again.
As I intently observed Ulrik’s every move, he finished checking the surroundings and nodded.
He pulled a money pouch from his pocket and handed it to .
It wasn’t too heavy.
But if it was filled with platinum coins, that changed everything.
“Congratulations. You’re rich now.”
“Thanks to you, Ulrik.”
I smiled faintly, accepting his words.
Obviously, this wasn’t arena fight money.
That wouldn’t earn this much.
Most of it ca from gambling.
Participants couldn’t bet on their own matches, but Ulrik had placed bets on my behalf for a fee, so there were no issues.
At least on the surface.
‘Just betting on earns this much. Gambling is such an easy, lucrative business!’
I’d gained a skewed view of the world.
Of course, Ulrik had no idea I was thinking this.
He was too focused on sothing far more important to say.
“Harang, I’m sorry, but our partnership ends here.”
“What? Suddenly?”
“It might be sudden for you. But not for . I wanted to leave Kalbaron as soon as possible.”
“Hmm, I see.”
I nodded.
Spending ti with Ulrik, I’d learned he’d returned to Kalbaron to earn money for his sick wife.
Illegal work was risky but paid well.
For Ulrik, needing a high priest’s healing magic, it was his only option.
“I thought I might not reach my goal even risking my life. No, the odds were high I wouldn’t. Without eting you, a stroke of luck, I’d have been killed or exploited by bandits who knew my identity. I’m truly grateful to you.”
“Don’t ntion it.”
“Anyway, I have to go.”
Ulrik spoke firmly, his voice full of resolve.
It was natural.
He knew Kalbaron’s cruelty better than anyone.
Having earned enough through my betting fees, leaving ASAP was in his best interest.
The only regret was not staying until the finals.
I brought it up, and Ulrik shook his head again.
“I’m not doubting you, but honestly, the championship match… I’m not sure.”
“Is the champion strong?”
“No. Haven’t you heard? The current champion fled, scared of you. They claim he’s recovering from an assassination attempt, but it’s obviously a lie.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
“The problem is the substitute might be one of the arena’s ‘ringers.’”
“Ringers?”
“Yeah, ringers.”
With a serious expression, Ulrik explained from the arena’s perspective.
The underground arena was Kalbaron’s biggest moneymaker and a talent pool for the five major guilds.
Many had risen through the arena to beco mid-level guild mbers.
That was my goal too.
The issue was I’d perford too spectacularly.
‘Not just good—too good. Enough to make the organizers nervous.’
They needed controllable, taable people.
To ta soone, you had to show overwhelming strength.
Hearing this, I nodded and said,
“So these ‘ringers’ are the arena’s true powerhouses.”
“Exactly. You’re incredibly strong, but I give you less than a 30 percent chance of winning. I can’t bet my hard-earned money on those odds.”
“Then bet on the other side.”
“Hmm. Tempting, but even 70 percent isn’t great… No, don’t tempt . I’ve got enough with the fees so far. It’s enough to heal my wife.”
After saying this, Ulrik drank a glass of cold water and looked at .
A sincere gaze, unlike his usual acting.
He offered more advice.
“Even if you could beat the ringer… I think losing would be better.”
“Really?”
“Yes. As I said, the arena and the five guilds dislike uncontrollable people. They want talent strong enough to leash… Understand?”
“I do.”
“Good. So, if you’re even greater than I think, hide your strength. Cater to their whims. That’s better for your goal. Champion or not, you just need to reach the inner district, right? Am I wrong?”
“You’re not.”
“Good. That’s all I have to say… It’s ti to part.”
Smiling and nodding, Ulrik pulled sothing else from his pocket.
A letter.
Handing it to , he stood without hesitation.
“Good… luck.”
“I wish you luck too, Ulrik. What’s this letter?”
“So advice to help you. Oh! Don’t read it now. I recomnd reading it tomorrow morning.”
“I see. Got it.”
“Alright, now it’s really goodbye!”
With that, Ulrik left briskly.
I stared at the door he’d gone through for a long ti, then went to bed earlier than usual.
I was eager to read the letter.
So, at dawn, I woke and imdiately opened it.
I was shocked by its contents.
[Your fee to was 10 percent, right? Check the pouch. It’s got 20 percent in platinum coins. Why? I tricked you.]
[Don’t feel too bad. I did it to remind you of the most important thing in Kalbaron.]
[Don’t trust anyone here. Not even the closest.]
[Good luck again. - Swordsman Ulrik -]
“…I’ll consider the 10 percent fee an education cost and won’t chase you.”
My first scam in the outside world.
But my expression wasn’t entirely displeased.
***
Hours later, at lunchti.
Staring at cooling food, the arena’s owner, Badin, spoke.
“For the championship match… I’m sending out Shakin.”
“…Shakin? Sorry, did I hear that right?”
His guard and aide asked in a flustered tone.
It was understandable.
Shakin was Kalbaron’s most notorious drunkard and wastrel.
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