Chapter 41

Chapter 41
The Desert Nation, Colony.

The Colosseum, which functions as the nation’s core and most recognizable feature, also gives its name to the capital city.

This arena is perpetually soaked in the blood of gladiators, a fact met with the roars and frenzy of the spectators.

Every event within the Colosseum, whether a gladiator is wounded or killed, is treated as a diversion for the crowd.

Yet, at this moment, the Colosseum was utterly quiet.

This was not because the audience was absent.

The structure was so densely packed that even the stairways, intended for passage, were completely blocked by the press of bodies.

Could the reason be that the contest had not begun? That was not the case.

Hundreds of gladiators of different ranks were already standing under the lights.

There was a single, peculiar discrepancy.

While hundreds of gladiators were assembled on the arena’s right side, only a single man stood on the left.

To any observer, it was a profoundly mismatched confrontation.

Nevertheless, the man standing alone on the sands registered no protest. A slight smile touched his lips instead.

The man’s iron gauntlets caught the light.

The moment the magically amplified voice of the referee rang out, the hundreds of gladiators began their charge toward the solitary figure.

Some brandished swords, some clenched their fists, and others hefted axes.

Gladiators of every type, from A-rank to B-rank, all surged forward with the same goal: to claim the head of the one man.

Yet, despite the savage determination in their eyes, the man’s expression remained one of calm amusement, while the gladiators rushing toward him had eyes sharp with strain.

Every person present was aware of the identity of the man who stood before them.

One of the Babayagas of this Colony.

The man who had held the title of Babayaga longer than any other.

Kalman Arents.

As Kalman smiled, he settled into his stance.

His left foot slid back, and his right hand drew back in unison.

Instantly, the muscles throughout his body coiled with power.

Just as the gladiators were about to reach him, Kalman threw his punch.

A strike aimed at the empty air.

A punch that targeted no one, yet held the potential to strike everyone.

Boom!

With the eruption of the shockwave, the hundreds of charging gladiators were instantly hurled backwards in every direction, and as Kalman’s form vanished,

Crash!

A merciless slaughter commenced.

With every extension of Kalman’s obsidian gauntlet, the bodies of gladiators trying to regain their footing were broken.

For five minutes, a heavy silence claimed the Colosseum, leaving only the fallen gladiators and Kalman standing.

After that brief, silent interval,

“Wooaaaaah!”

The Colosseum erupted with a storm of delirious cheers, as if the prior quiet had been an illusion.

The crazed and wild crowd paid no mind to the gladiators with crushed skulls or destroyed hearts, all victims of Kalman.

They only shrieked and cheered madly for Kalman himself.

As Kalman slowly looked over the crowd, his deep smile still in place, he turned and walked back into the Colosseum’s interior.

Inside the luxurious waiting room reserved for the Babayagas.

Listening to the crowd’s incessant cheering, Kalman observed,

“So many foolish people remain. Believing they could overcome a Babayaga through sheer numbers, with just a few hundred.”

He turned at the sound of a voice from behind to see another man smiling.
The man was Malian, also a Babayaga, his bald head tilted at a distorted angle.

As Kalman settled into a plush chair, Malian went on,

“Are you aware of who eliminated the Blood Sand Bandits?”

“No. Did you discover who?”

Malian answered Kalman’s question immediately.

“It was Seolrang.”

“…Is that so?”

After a moment of silence, Kalman finally spoke.

But his voice held no particular anger.

Only a quiet acknowledgment, as if to say, “So that’s what happened.”

“You don’t seem particularly troubled?” Malian asked, sounding somewhat confused.

Kalman leaned back into his chair with an air of ease.

“Should I be? I only kept him around because he provided a bit of extra income. Besides, we’re going to kill him regardless, correct?”

Kalman replied with a cunning smile.

“True, that is the plan.”

“So, what is the plan?”

As Kalman posed the question, Malian gave a quick, sharp grin and held out his left hand. In his palm rested a black cube.

“Oh-ho, is this the Abyssal Core? The device said to elevate those who are deserving?”

Malian nodded as Kalman’s mouth twisted into a smile.

“Yes, with this, I can crush the skull of that arrogant beastkin.”

“That is a welcome sound.”

Kalman took the cube from Malian’s hand. Staring into the abyssal object that seemed to swallow all light, he muttered with deep satisfaction.

“At last, I can kill the wretch who has been tearing through Colony as if she owns it.”

“I concur. Just a few days ago, I faced difficulties because of her as well. And—”

Malian let out a heavy sigh, a flicker of his aggravation showing as he nodded in agreement. Seeing this, Kalman spoke again.

“So, when is the plan set for?”

“In two days, at the ruins.”

“That is soon.”

“Is sooner not better? Once that girl is dead, you can resume your erosion of the royal authority—”

“And you can seize control of the entire underworld, correct?”

“Precisely.”

Malian smiled as the two reaffirmed their mutual objectives.

“Failure is not an option.”

“Because of the Abyssal Core?”

“That is one reason, but we also have allies on the opposing side.”

Having said that, Malian continued.

“Oh, and if you encounter that noble who is always with Seolrang, it would be ideal if you dealt with him, too.”

“Why?”

“Consider it a minor favor. I hear he is Seolrang’s Master. Wouldn’t it be entertaining to kill him first, right before Seolrang’s eyes?”

“Hmm, that does sound like it could be amusing.”

With Kalman’s smiling reply, Malian vanished, leaving behind a promise to meet again in two days.

“Finally…”

Kalman sat upon his throne, a seat driven by more greed than any other, a profound smile on his lips.

***

Approximately two days later, Alon, now fully rested after his stay at the guild, was in a carriage with Seolrang, traveling toward the ruins. After some time had passed, they were nearing their destination.

Looking at Seolrang, who was talking casually with the golden-maned beastkin guarding their carriage, Alon reflected.

‘She is nothing like the rumors described.’

It had been only four days since Alon arrived in Colony, but he had already learned of Seolrang’s reputation within it.

‘A mad dog…’

Alon’s expression turned thoughtful.

The common gossip often depicted Seolrang as a mad dog, and naturally, his curiosity had been piqued. After all, since their first meeting, Seolrang had never displayed such behavior in his presence. For the past three days, all he had witnessed was Seolrang smiling cheerfully and wagging her tail.

“Master?”

“Hmm?”

Alon was pulled from his thoughts as Seolrang, who had stopped her conversation with the beastkin, was now looking directly at him.

“You seemed lost in thought, Master. What is it?”

“It is nothing of importance.”

As Seolrang tilted her head so far it seemed her neck might twist, Alon paused briefly before responding.

“I was just thinking that you are quite good at caring for the guild members.”

“Of course! They are all my family!”

“Family?”

“Yes! They are all my kin! I have to look after them! I don’t concern myself with anyone else.”

“Is that so…?”

“Oh, but that excludes you, Master!”

Seolrang’s expression turned serious as she stared at him with great intensity.

She seemed to be weighing something of great importance, her brow furrowing as she murmured,

“Master… hmm… family… comes after family?… No, after Yutia…?”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, no matter how important you or Yutia are, you are not related by blood.”

As if she had reached a difficult conclusion, Seolrang finished with a slightly regretful look.

But Alon simply gave a slight shrug and thought to himself.

‘Higher than I anticipated.’

Despite his impassive face, Alon felt a sense of gratification. Considering he had barely spoken to Seolrang, let alone corresponded, being ranked as the third most important person in her life was rather satisfying.

‘Hmm… does this mean if something dangerous occurs later, I could likely ask for her help once?’

As Alon finished his thoughts with a measure of relief, the coachman suddenly announced,

“We have arrived!”

The carriage had reached the city of Kahara, the ancient city of the gods.

***

At the entrance to the ruins, now known by that term, the city was once called “Kahara, the City of the Old Gods,” at least according to his knowledge as a player.

Alon stepped down from the carriage and began to walk deeper into the dark cave, ordering his thoughts.

‘Where should I begin the search?’

In Psychedelia, Alon had visited this location numerous times. However, those visits were solely for side quests to eliminate the bandits hiding here, not to unearth any concealed secrets.

‘I do recall a place covered in many inscriptions.’

Using his knowledge from the game, he decided to concentrate on specific areas that were prominent in his memory after entering Kahara. He was identifying a few locations to investigate more thoroughly.

After walking for some time, just as Seolrang’s expression began to show signs of weariness, Alon noticed a group walking ahead, far in front of his own party.

Soon after, he recognized them.

“Ah, Count Palatio?”

“Liyan…?”

The woman approaching from the darkness, lighting the way with magical light, was none other than Liyan Aguileras, the daughter of the Red Tower’s master, accompanied by a group of Red Tower wizards whom Alon had met during his recent visit to the desert city of Colony.

Alon, noticing the initially confused looks of the twenty or so wizards shift to expressions of mild surprise, felt somewhat taken aback himself.

“Are you exploring the ruins as well, Count?” Liyan inquired.

“I am,” Alon nodded in reply, and naturally, he began to walk alongside the Red Tower wizards as they continued their exploration of the ruins.

After walking for a while longer, Alon heard Evan, who was beginning to look as bored as Seolrang, say, “There is the exit.”

Following Evan’s gaze toward the exit, Alon finally stepped outside and was met with a breathtaking view.

“Wow—”

The wizards, the beastkin, and even Seolrang could not hold back their gasps of awe. The sight that greeted them upon exiting was that of a massive fortress contained within an enormous underground cavern.

Alon, however, was not particularly shocked by the vista. He had seen this immense fortress many times before.

Even so, his typically expressionless eyes widened a little more than usual because, in his ear, he heard something no one else could perceive:

[You have finally come, magician.]

A voice meant for his ears alone.