TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 48

The moment the highly anticipated mid-level monster moved, it instantly ignited the already heated and excited atmosphere in the arena. The spectators in the stands surged with emotion, raising their arms and cheering.

“Monster, attack! Tear him apart!”

“Tear that slave to pieces!”

They shouted and cheered, their passion bubbling like droplets hitting a boiling oil pan.

Albin, however, was extremely nervous. He had previously worked only in the underground areas and had always been involved in rescues behind the scenes. He had never watched a beast-fighting match from the surface before, and his entire body felt tense.

It felt like a sports competition, but here there was no “friendship first, competition second.” This was a life-or-death battle.

The more the crowd shouted those bloody and thrilling words, the more uneasy he became.

In the arena, the gladiator dodged the lion’s first wave of attacks with agility, moving with ease, unlike the usual stunned players the lion faced.

Above them, the midday sun shone down. The gladiator’s mask and armor gleamed with dazzling gold, while the lion’s dense mane seemed like flames, swaying in the breeze, radiating wild energy.

Man and lion observed each other warily, moving cautiously, advancing and retreating, circling around the arena.

As the distance between them shrank, the tension grew, making the spectators hold their breath.

Suddenly, they moved, launching attacks on each other simultaneously!

Their figures weaved through the arena, crossing paths. The gladiator roared, the lion bellowed, and a fierce fight unfolded between them.

Shields blocked claws, the gladiator swung his sword in retaliation, confronting the lion’s roar infused with magical energy.

As time passed, man and lion fought on, nearly evenly matched. Every move tugged at the spectators’ hearts.

The battle continued, but compared to the lion, which had only lost some mane, the gladiator was already wounded in several places and slightly at a disadvantage.

The lion opened its gaping maw and lunged at the gladiator with fierce strength. The gladiator barely blocked the attack, but the sharp claws grazed his face, knocking off his golden mask in an instant.

Albin, standing by the wall, widened his eyes in shock.

Beneath the mask was a resilient, handsome face. His sword-like sharp eyes were full of courage and indomitable will, sweat and blood mixing on honey-colored skin.

It was a face Albin knew well.

This gladiator was the severely injured man he had rescued a few days ago!

Albin bit his lip. He wanted to stop this life-or-death fight, but he could also see that both combatants were fully immersed and would not allow anyone to interrupt their duel.

Although the gladiator was at a disadvantage, he never gave up, standing up again and again.

What drove him to rise was not fear of death but a desire for revenge.

The lion, increasingly impressed with the gladiator, respected him enough to knock him down again, expecting him to rise once more.

[Get up!] the lion seemed to say, eager for him to stand again.

Though the gladiator could not understand, he still got up and launched an attack.

The lion, full of fighting spirit, bellowed: [Now this is a duel. Hey, kid, what’s your name?]

The gladiator did not respond.

[Tsk, I forgot humans don’t understand me.]

The lion had gotten used to talking to that human little guy over the past few days and had forgotten this fact.

Despite the lack of response, the lion continued muttering to himself.

[Kid’s got good muscles.]

[Whoa, quite resilient.]

[Reaction is sharp… that last move was good. Let me try!]

[Of course, it looks cooler when I do it!]

Though others could not hear, Albin understood his words. Occasionally, when the lion drew near, Albin could hear its mutterings, which strangely eased some of his tension.

Man and lion battled for a long time. The crowd grew restless, but the fighters were completely unaffected by the noise.

[Get up! Get up! Defeat me!]

The lion shouted with desire, its roar thundering like lightning.

The gladiator gritted his teeth, enduring the lion’s fierce blow. He became braver with each clash, already adapting to the rhythm of facing a magical beast.

During a close confrontation, the silent gladiator finally spoke to the lion.

“I’ve heard mid-level monsters possess the intelligence to understand human speech.”

He locked eyes with the nearby starlit gaze, resolute: “I want you. I want to form a contract with you, to fight by my side. I need your strength for revenge! I will take you away from here as well.”

He had won many matches in the arena before and had heard about this mid-level monster.

It was said that this lion had been imprisoned here because it lost to a human but honored its promise.

If he wanted revenge, he would inevitably face retaliation from the priests. He needed power. He needed a companion.

He imagined signing a contract with this monster just like the Pastoral Temple tames beasts.

No one had ever made a contract with a monster. Even the Pastoral Temple only controlled ordinary beasts.

This was partly because their magic couldn’t achieve such a thing, and partly because the world neither accepted nor trusted monsters.

But for him, as long as it could help him take revenge, he would believe in monsters and sell his soul without hesitation.

For that, he first had to defeat this male lion.

A blazing fire burned in his eyes.

“Hahaha—” the lion laughed wildly, “What an arrogant human, daring to try to tame me!”

Yet the lion’s gaze was unusually serious.

“Then come and try!”

The lion activated its ability—[The Pact].

In an instant, the two of them were connected by some kind of force.

The gladiator was astonished to find he could suddenly understand the monster’s words!

“Human, I obey no one!” the lion roared at him. “But if you can defeat me, kill me, I will give you all of my power.”

The gladiator’s eyes narrowed.

The lion sneered, “What’s the matter? Afraid to become a human with the power of a monster? Humans will inevitably regard you as a heretic. You’ll be abandoned by everyone.”

The gladiator replied firmly, “No, I am not afraid. In fact, I couldn’t wish for it more!”

He had already been abandoned by everyone, nothing left to fear.

“Hmph, we’ll see if you can defeat me, arrogant human,” the lion sneered. “If you lose…”

“Kill me, or make me your slave, I will hold no grudge,” the gladiator said after thinking for a moment, then added, “You may take everything from me, even my body.”

If he was going to gamble, he would risk everything.

“A slave, huh…”

The lion pondered. Killing someone was too mundane, but having a human slave wasn’t bad.

The little one was weak and had to carry meat in small batches, but this human was strong—a perfect fit.

“Good! Then show me your resolve to risk everything. Human, tell me your name!”

The gladiator did not give the stage name assigned to him by the arena. He said firmly, “My name—Sutanlai.”

After a brief pause, their battle became increasingly intense and brutal.

Sutanlai moved like lightning, his strikes as fierce as a storm, while each of the lion’s attacks hit like thunder, tearing through the air.

Every clash was breathtaking, making the hot air itself feel charged with power, and the crowd’s cheers rose and fell in response.

The lion fought passionately, its gaze burning on the human who wounded him, exuding reckless defiance: “Burn! Let me feel your rage!”

—“Let me be consumed by your fury!”

The fierce battle raged on for a full day and night, until the next evening, when neither the man nor the lion could move.

After the final strike, they collapsed, unwilling eyes fixed on each other, both struggling to rise.

“Bite him!”

“Kill him!”

The crowd cheered for them, but after a long while, neither could stand.

“A draw?” That voice sparked a wave of noisy curses from the spectators.

Many had bet on the match beforehand, yet no one expected it would end in a draw.

On the arena floor, the lion lay panting erratically. Its mane, once groomed by Albin, was disheveled and soaked with blood. It gazed wearily at Sutanlai, so near.

He could feel himself like a torch burning out, his body unbearably heavy, with no strength left.

Yet he was satisfied.

He had reached the end exactly as he had hoped, in a battle he found supremely fulfilling.

And he had not lost.

[The Pact] had delivered its answer: the duel was a draw.

Although it wasn’t a victory, it was close enough.

A draw… the lion thought, but even he didn’t know what effect the draw would have on the pact.

It didn’t matter. That wasn’t important.

His vision blurred, yet from afar he saw a small white creature running toward them.

Tsk, a troublesome little brat.

Weak as it was, he told Sutanlai with a faint breath: “After you take your revenge, look after that little one who can’t even eat meat… yes, the one running over there…”

If an adult couldn’t afford meat, the lion would only mock their weakness.

But for a young cub, he could at least tolerate a bit of care.

Sutanlai also looked at that figure, feeling a rush of emotion.

“It should be me asking you… that’s my little godling…”

As the draw was announced, nobles signaled their attendants to handle the corpses.

Albin, standing at the edge, wiped his tears and rushed forward.

He came between the lion and Sutanlai, sobbing as he cast a healing spell.

Feeling his strength gradually return, the lion bellowed at him fiercely.

“You fool! Have you forgotten my words?”

Albin’s heart twisted: “B-but…”

The lion struggled to lift his head and, while he spoke, suddenly sent a wave of magical energy toward the grand noble in the front box.

The noble, thinking the monsters had fallen, had let down his defenses and was completely unprepared for this attack.

Chaos erupted in the audience as people, thinking the monster would continue attacking, scattered in panic.

“I’ve hated them for a long time anyway,” the lion murmured, lazily lying back as if taking a nap, his tone calm and deep.

“Little one, light the fire.”

Exhausted, he glanced once at Albin, slowly closed his eyes, and entered a long slumber.

His breathing stopped abruptly, as if time itself froze, leaving the world in complete silence. No matter how Albin tested, he could not detect any breath.

The lion’s body, lying before Albin, was like a silent mountain—unyielding and unresponsive.

Albin trembled, pressing his lips together, tears streaming uncontrollably, his vision blurred.

He tried to wipe his tears, wanting one last look at the lion.

“…Good night, Mr. Lion.”

Suddenly, fierce flames engulfed the lion, a wave of heat blowing Albin’s pure white hair and warming his face.

His crimson eyes reflected the fire, but his heart was overwhelmed with grief, like a tsunami, suffocating him.

As he sank into sorrow, his magic leaked from his body, shaking the ground. The earth seemed to wail, and on the barren ground, lush grass sprouted as if they were in a prairie.

The wind howled, fanning the flames, which consumed the grass and spread rapidly across the arena.

Above the arena, dark clouds blocked the sky, thunder roared, lightning flashed, and a torrential rain followed, trying to extinguish the fire. But no matter how hard it poured, the towering flames could not be quenched.

Monster attacks, storm, earthquake, fire… people in the arena scrambled to escape, crying out as if the earth itself had trembled.

Outside, on the main street, a gray-haired man whose wallet had been stolen muttered about writing to a friend, introducing the simple folk of Thorn City.

Hearing the cries, he looked up in surprise at the phenomenon above the arena. “Magic?” he muttered.

He ran against the crowd toward the arena.

The spectator stands collapsed amid the fire and rain. Agile, he dodged debris and reached the epicenter of the quake.

At his waist was a long sword, its sheath engraved in gold with his name—Jacques—adorned with a sunflower pattern, signifying his status as a knight of the Solar Temple.

Jacques saw a burning beast’s corpse and two unconscious people.

One of them, a man whose hair had turned from brown to fiery orange, was bent protectively over a white-haired boy, frozen like a statue, unconscious.

Magic was leaking from the white-haired boy’s body.

“Magic runaway?”