“He actually wounded a Monk? But how…?”
“Is the Small Gladiator a ‘Sword Runner’? I heard that unless a swordsman reaches that level, they can’t even leave a scratch on a Monk. Aren’t their bodies supposed to be as hard as iron?”
The spectator stands were abuzz with excitement.
It was rare to see a Monk in the Iron Kingdom, and the fact that his opponent was the Small Gladiator—who had been on a tear since yesterday—only made the atmosphere more electric.
‘…He’s certainly a difficult opponent. This might be too much for you this time, Small Gladiator.’
Among the chattering crowd, Seol-yoon sat with an indifferent expression. She had already earned her Gold Medal and a letter of recommendation from her previous duel. In an instant, she had met all the requirements to participate in the Infinite Duel.
But what about Arhan?
He had yet to satisfy either condition.
That was why Seol-yoon was watching this match so intently.
‘No matter how much stronger he’s become, a Monk is the natural enemy of a swordsman.’
Monks were ascetics who carried no weapons, instead forging their own bodies into instruments of war. Their skin was tougher than the plate armor worn by knights, and their fists carried the weight of castle-shattering maces. Even if one managed to inflict a wound through sheer effort, Rebrua, the Goddess of the Sun whom they served, granted her followers the Authority of healing. The restorative power bestowed by the Sun Goddess was considered one of the three most potent blessings among all the gods.
The mere appearance of a Monk in a duel at this level was practically cheating. For a proper battle to even be possible against such a foe, one had to be at least a 「Sword Runner」.
“The Small Gladiator is going to lose this one.”
“Honestly, it’s only natural. Aren’t they monsters who train in the terrifying Sky Mountain Range? They’re mystical beings you’re lucky to see once in a lifetime…”
“Dammit! I bet all the money I made this time on the Small Gladiator.”
“Keke, you idiot! You should’ve bet more wisely.”
Though the match had only just begun, the crowd acted as if the outcome were already decided. In truth, Seol-yoon’s thoughts weren’t much different. A Monk appearing at this stage was an unreasonable existence. It was a particularly bad matchup for Arhan, as a Monk’s presence neutralized Arhan’s greatest strength—his steel-like power.
However.
“Everyone is being a bit hasty, considering the match isn’t over yet.”
There was one person offering a different opinion.
Hearing the formal tone, Seol-yoon slowly turned her head.
“No one can know the outcome of a warrior’s struggle until it is finished. Did you know? Even the great Goddess Lefri said she does not know the end of every duel. That is why struggle is sacred. To my eyes, that young master… the Small Gladiator still has a high chance of victory. He is a young man who understands the meaning of a magnificent struggle.”
There stood an old man with hair as white as snow.
Unlike the other spectators, the old man was dressed like a refined gentleman. His suit was spotless, and the monocle perched on his cheek was striking. While the crowd fell silent as if enchanted by his words, Seol-yoon studied the old man’s face. He was someone she recognized.
“…I believe this is the first time I’ve seen you in the stands.”
“Is that so? Hoho, this old man is also a lover of struggle, so I make it a point to watch the matches of warriors I take a liking to.”
The old man wore a benevolent smile that naturally put one at ease.
“I don’t always stay cooped up in the Hall of Fame, you know.”
“…”
“Besides, I’m a fan. A fan of the Small Gladiator.”
The old man—Tom, the caretaker of the Hall of Fame—spoke with a warm smile.
“For the record, I bet three months’ worth of my salary on the Small Gladiator’s victory.”
* * *
「Normally, Monks are not the kind of folk you encounter in places like this arena,」 Liam spoke amidst the swirling dust. 「They live having severed their ties with the secular world. They usually only appear during eras of war to quell chaos. Monks are not those who train to kill, but ascetics who train to polish their own selves. Their essence is different from us blade-wielders.」
The wounds on the Monk, Gladiator Helen, had already healed completely.
It was an unreasonable level of recovery.
Isn’t that just cheating?
「You must think it’s unfair. Superior martial arts, an insanely tough body, and the ability to instantly heal even if you manage to wound them. They must look as if they were born solely for combat.」
He was right.
No matter how much I scrutinized him with my Doubt, the Monk before me was a foe too heavy for me to handle right now. My reason told me so, and my body felt it.
「The power Monks use is different from the mana we handle. Instead of creating a second heart, they accumulate mana in an organ below the navel called the Dantian. Monks call the mana accumulated there ‘Qi.’」
“…”
「Just by accumulating Qi, they make their bodies robust while simultaneously strengthening the divine powers they use. It’s a truly shitty ability.」
Gladiator Helen lunged off the ground.
Matching his movement, I drew a deep breath. As oxygen filled my lungs, mana surged. The lines etched across my body glowed, and the strength of a superhuman was granted to me.
「But listen. Every power has its own strengths. There is no inherent superiority or inferiority. The Sword has its own unique advantages, my young descendant.」
I glared at the charging Gladiator Helen.
Helen entered my 「Path」. The moment he crossed into it, a faint afterimage of his next move appeared. However, even knowing it in advance, his speed made it difficult to react.
Instead of a wide swing, I moved my blade minimally to parry Helen’s fist. I treated him not as a man’s fist, but as a weapon. I moved the blade smoothly as if parrying a mace to deflect the force, then returned that force with a single rotation.
Deflecting and countering using rotation.
The orthodox Knight Swordsmanship.
It was Petel’s 「Twilight」.
「The Sword is a weapon created to overcome weakness. It was made to surpass enemies stronger than oneself, and to cut through the approaching fear and crisis to move forward.」
“…”
「A Monk breaks when they meet a stronger Monk. But the Sword was made to handle any enemy. It has been so since the first moment a blade existed.」
I spun my body and swung the blade.
Helen dodged by arching his back with a serene expression. But my Sword did not stop there. The strike, once imbued with rotational force, transformed into a savage blade that would not stop until it had carved through the enemy. From the refined swordsmanship of a knight to the ferocious swordsmanship of an orc.
From 「Twilight」 to 「Wildness」.
“How strange! It feels as if I am fighting multiple warriors at once. This is the kind of combat only Orc warriors of the Sky Mountain Range who have completed their coming-of-age ceremony can perform…!”
Helen moved his body nimbly, dodging my blade.
The damn Monk was excellent even at grappling. Instead of taking the hits with his tough body, he used skillful martial arts to evade and close the distance. Having burrowed in step by step, Helen thrust his open palm toward me. It was the same technique he had used before—the one that sent a shock through the body as if being struck by lightning.
I had no intention of falling for it again.
“Hup—”
I reversed my grip on the sword and pressed my shoulder against Helen’s chest. Then, I tripped his ankle and shoved hard with my shoulder. Regardless of strength, Helen’s balance broke, and his body tilted backward. A technique that, if used correctly, could topple even a giant. Sword Wrestling.
I had returned from 「Wildness」 to 「Twilight」.
However.
“Are you trying to face me with martial arts? That won’t end well for you.”
The opponent was wrong.
A Monk’s martial arts didn’t just consist of striking. Their techniques encompassed every possible use of the body. Petel’s Sword Wrestling was certainly excellent, but it couldn’t compare to that of a Monk who had spent his entire life training his body.
“It’s impressive for a swordsman, but this level of grappling is something even the seven-year-old acolytes born on our mountain can do.”
Gladiator Helen wavered but did not fall. Simultaneously, his limbs snaked in like serpents, constricting my body. My joints groaned with a crack , showing signs of being snapped.
I let go of the sword in my hand.
As the dwarf-made sword fell, I drew the Fang from my thigh and stabbed. Helen’s eyes didn’t waver. He looked as if he wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice.
But I’m sorry—I didn’t plan on using the exact same move.
“…?”
I thrust the Fang. The dagger narrowly missed Helen. Recognizing the distance was insufficient, I immediately released the Fang and twisted my wrist at a different angle to catch the falling dwarf-made steel sword. In the next instant, I thrust the sword at an impossibly contorted angle. It was 「Needle」. The thrust, fired from an impossible trajectory, forced Helen’s body back.
It didn’t wound him, but it was enough to push him away.
“What in the…?”
This time, Gladiator Helen’s eyes wavered.
“Not two, but three? No, four? Just how many souls do you have inside that body…?”
He was a priest who believed in a god; had he seen something special within me? A look of bewilderment flickered in Gladiator Helen’s eyes. Of course, I didn’t have the luxury to answer his rambling. If I had the momentum, I had to press it. I repeatedly stabbed and slashed, alternating between catching and releasing the dwarf-made steel sword and the Fang. Each time, 「Fang」, 「Twilight」, 「Needle」, and 「Wildness」 emerged and vanished to suit the situation.
To an observer, it looked as if different swordsmen were appearing for every moment. It looked as if multiple people were fighting using a single body.
Gladiator Helen watched with disbelief.
“Are you some kind of ghost?”
“…”
“I have never seen anything like this. Not even in the Empire is there a human like…”
Indeed, there wouldn’t be.
Because the Steel Blood flowing through my body is special.
I took a step forward and thrust my sword. A drop of blood splattered from Gladiator Helen’s body. His ironclad skin was finally weakening after being relentlessly carved. Immediately after a large slash, I spun and kicked the ground. A cloud of dust rose, obscuring both our visions.
I drew the Fang from my thigh.
Darkness was my friend.
In that moment, I became the Assassin of the Free City. I lunged as stealthily as a ghost and thrust the dagger. But the dagger failed to reach Helen. The back of Helen’s hand struck the dagger away. How did he react so quickly to an ambush within a dust cloud?
The sudden doubt was soon resolved.
Helen had his eyes closed. He was sensing my approach through other senses, not sight. The dagger Helen had struck away spun in the air. I saw Helen slowly opening his eyes. But my attack wasn’t over. I slammed the sole of my foot against the handle of the spinning dagger. I stomped the dagger out of the air, driving it into Helen’s chest.
The tough skin was pierced. Blood splattered.
But Helen was staring straight at me. He looked as if he were willing to give up his flesh to take my bone. Helen’s rough hand reached for my extended ankle. Since he could heal a chest wound in an instant anyway, he seemed intent on taking the hit to seize my ankle.
That was a mistake.
I drew another dagger from my thigh and threw it. No matter how tough a Monk’s body was, there were parts that couldn’t be hardened. I aimed for his eye.
“Hup—”
Helen hurriedly swatted away the dagger aimed at his eye. His posture broke slightly. That was my chance. I gripped the dwarf-made steel sword. Then, I took the deepest breath possible and poured my strength in without hesitation. The 「Path」 became a line. A path of steel that no one could block.
「A Monk is like a rock. A rock that can endure countless hardships. However.」
The line manifested on the blade I swung. Simultaneously, both of Gladiator Helen’s arms were cleanly severed. Amidst the spray of red blood, a golden light erupted from Helen’s body, beginning the healing process. But I had no intention of giving him time. I stomped on Helen’s foot with my lead leg, pinning him so he couldn’t retreat.
「Can a rock be harder than Steel?」
Helen kicked up with his rear leg. His rising foot collided with my sword. The kick, fully imbued with a Monk’s Qi, was certainly powerful. If they clashed, there was no telling which would win.
In that case, I simply wouldn’t let them clash.
I released the sword to meet Helen’s kick. Then, I drew the Fang from his chest and stabbed it into the back of his knee. I severed every nerve so he could no longer support his weight. The entire sequence took 1.7 seconds.
Ting—! The dwarf-made steel sword was sent flying high into the air.
With one leg and both arms ruined, Helen glared at me and shoved his shoulder hard into my chest. Golden light flared, and a powerful shock erupted from his chest. A staggering impact rippled through my entire body like a wave.
But.
“Whew—”
I can endure this.
My 「Mana Heart」 is not like others’.
The Heart of Steel is not so soft as to succumb to a mere shock like this.
“Truly, truly magnificent sturdiness!”
Gladiator Helen let out a cry of pure admiration. Golden light exploded brilliantly from his shoulders, and in an instant, his two arms had regrown. It was almost grotesque.
“Show me more. More—!”
A frantic exchange of blows followed. I severed arms, shattered legs, carved a large hole in his flank, and inflicted a fatal wound to his chest. But the damn Monk constantly healed his wounds as long as his body didn’t completely collapse. For me, even a single hit from his fist was devastating.
Dizzying shocks shook my entire frame, making me feel as if my body would crumble like a sandcastle.
But I did not back down. I had to pour everything in.
Every single drop. Everything.
Gradually, the boisterous noise from the stands began to fade.
It didn’t stop there. Even the smallest noises vanished, and finally, a complete silence washed over my world. Following that silence, a mysterious landscape unfolded. Instead of the spectators and the amphitheater, a vast plain filled with grotesque monsters appeared before my eyes.
Yes.
The Monster Wave was a disaster.
It was the final memory of 「Wildness」 that had not been fully digested.
* * *
The Monster Wave was a disaster. Many of my kin died. Our village vanished overnight, and my friends and comrades were swept away by the tide to a distant place.
The legion’s assault, led by giants, was endless.
Pitch-black monsters filled the great plains.
The sky remained dark throughout the legion’s onslaught.
The sound of clashing spears and swords never ceased.
Orc warriors roared, and monsters howled.
Thunder struck, and rain and wind poured down.
The sky, filled with dark clouds, was black. Under a sky so dark it felt like the world was ending, we fought without end.
How many days and nights did we fight like that?
When I finally came to my senses, the wave of monsters was gone.
Instead, the great plains were filled with the corpses of countless monsters. It wasn’t just monsters. The bodies of my kin and the blades they wielded were also drenched in blood, becoming part of the plains. The scent of blood was thick. I was the only one standing there.
Only then was it all over.
The rain that seemed like it would fall forever stopped, and only at the very end did I look back, not forward. Berik, Berik. I heard voices calling my name.
My precious people were there.
The things I had to protect with everything I had.
But strangely, even though it was all over, my people were weeping. Why? Only after seeing them sobbing did I check my own condition.
A body covered in blood, riddled with holes, and beginning to rot.
A body that bore the black of death instead of its proud green.
Only then did I realize my time was short.
Though I stood until the end, I was no different from those who had departed before me.
My kind-hearted wife, who had believed in a pathetic man like me, was crying.
My family and friends were grieving.
My son, who hadn’t even taken his first steps, my daughter, who hadn’t even been weaned, and my two children, far too young to have finished their childhood, were weeping.
Seeing them grieve, strangely, I wasn’t afraid of death. Unlike a typical orc, I had always feared death, but in the final moment, it didn’t matter at all.
I didn’t regret my choice either.
I was proud, rather, that I could stand until the end to protect them.
I only felt regret that I had to leave first.
I regretted that I couldn’t grow old with the wife who believed in me; I regretted that I wouldn’t see my son’s coming-of-age ceremony or my daughter’s wedding; and I regretted that I wouldn’t be there for the future of my children, who would one day become warriors, one day become brave, and one day become beautiful. Yes, I only felt regret.
I saw my son and daughter.
Seeing those lovely little ones brought back old memories.
The words I had once asked my father. I remembered the moment I asked him if he wasn’t afraid of death. My father’s image flickered before my blurring eyes. I remembered the words he said back then, baring his fangs in a smile and stroking my head.
Ah.
The reason a weakling like me could protect my precious ones was all thanks to the words you said back then, Father. That is why I can meet such a satisfying end.
I looked at my sobbing children.
I looked at my wrinkled wife.
I looked at my friends.
Looking at them, I chose my final words without hesitation.
“…Do not… run away.”
“…”
“…There is no paradise… in the place you flee to.”
Those words guided my entire life.
And I hope those words guide my children’s lives as well.
Just as they did mine.
.
.
.
Amidst the frantic exchange of blows, the digestion of 「Wildness」 was completed. Only after the digestion was finished did my consciousness return. When I came to my senses, the match was over. The sword I held had pierced Gladiator Helen’s chest. The grotesque golden light of healing no longer sparkled. It seemed the Authority of healing he had used without rest had finally run dry.
“…A ghost.”
Such voices drifted from the stands.
“The Sword Demon…”
Yes, that was what the crowd was calling me.
“ Cough .”
“…”
“Such… an insanely tough swordsman… As expected… the continent is vast.”
Gladiator Helen muttered in a weak voice.
Blood trickled from his mouth.
“It really… felt like fighting a ghost. Even without the Authority of healing… how could you fight like this… with a body like that…?”
“…”
“It is… amazing. Truly amazing…”
Helen’s body went limp and he collapsed onto the dirt.
I was the one standing at the end.
Yes, me.
“The winner is the Small Gladiator, Liam!”
With that, the winner was announced.
“From this moment on, the Small Gladiator Liam shall wear the Gold Medal in the Arena!”
Cheers erupted from all directions.
But I had no time to enjoy the acclaim.
My consciousness blurred, and the strength left my legs.
Checking my body belatedly, I saw I was covered in blood from head to toe.
The skin on my hands was shredded, my body was covered in dark bruises, and there were places where broken bones protruded. Looking at my state, I could understand why they kept calling me a ghost.
It seemed I had fought without stopping throughout the process of fully digesting the memories of 「Wildness」. Just like the Orc Great Warrior Berik, who had lost his reason and fought until the very end against the Monster Wave.
“Ah.”
I slumped down where I stood.
My hands were shaking uncontrollably.
My head spun with dizziness.
My physical condition was a mess. My body, pushed to its absolute limit, was sending out danger signals. As the Arena officials rushed toward me from afar, my eyes closed on their own.
“Li—am!”
“Sword… Demon Liam—!”
Sword Demon.
My new nickname echoed from all around.
As drowsiness washed over me, Liam’s voice rang out.
「Well done, young descendant.」
With that voice as the last thing I heard, I fell asleep.
* * *
I don’t know how long I slept after losing consciousness.
My duel with the Monk had become quite the sensation in the meantime. Word was that even after losing consciousness, I had continued to swing my sword relentlessly, like a wild beast—fighting with a broken arm dangling limp, tearing at the Monk’s incoming fists with my teeth, and roaring like a monster.
That must have been why they gave me the new moniker: Sword Demon.
In those moments, I hadn’t been the Small Gladiator; I had existed as an Orc. As a hero who once roamed the Great Plains, a father burdened by heavy responsibilities, and the proud son of a great warrior.
And so, my promotion match concluded successfully, leaving me with a new title. I had fulfilled the first requirement to enter the Infinite Duel. I was in the recovery room, catching up on everything I’d missed from Seol-yoon, when…
“You’re finally awake.”
An unexpected visitor arrived.
“I’ve heard that you intend to participate in the Infinite Duel.”
It was Tom, the caretaker of the Hall of Fame.
“I’ll write your letter of recommendation.”
The kindly old man had appeared with wonderful news.
“…Provided you do me a favor, of course.”
