"Thchankuu… par da guilance," the orc said, his voice muffled through swollen lips and a jaw that looked like it might crack if he moved it wrong.
He slammed his fist into his palm and gave me a bow.
I blinked. "Likewise," I said, matching his posture out of respect.
…Did I hit him too hard?
[I thought you said you'd go easy on him.]
Well… he's the first one to walk away with just a few bruises when I'm fighting seriously. In all my lives.
The referee stepped forward, raising his hand. "The match is over! Victory belongs to the guest!"
I nodded, but my eyes slid toward Tugnier. He was supposed to grant me one wish as the victor, but his gaze wasn't on me at all. He was staring across the arena, focused entirely on the fight raging on the other side.
Well… let's see how Sera's doing.
[I didn't think she'll hold out this long.]
"Yeah…" I muttered under my breath. "But I've already decided how I'll use my wish. Even if she loses, I can keep her safe. Tugnier can't kill her if I demand he take her as his disciple."
With that thought anchoring me, I moved toward the opposite wall of the arena.
Quinn's voice carried over the clash of steel. Her knuckles turning white as she clutched harder.
"Just say you give up! Dammit!"
I frowned. Why's Quinn mumbling that?
I rounded the wall and finally saw the scene unfold before me.
I froze.
The battlefield looked like it had been torn apart by meteors. Craters everywhere, dust and debris choking the air. Through the haze, two silhouettes stood out.
The orc… standing tall, not a single scratch on him.
No way.
Sera was weaker than him... But not even a single scratch on her target? Something was off.
I spotted her a few feet away. Barely standing. Her body was a map of cuts, blood dripping freely down her arms and legs. Her cloths tore at places, the hand gripping her sword trembled so hard I thought she'd drop it any second. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused, her legs shaking beneath her, yet she still stood.
Then I noticed the green blood staining the ground in front of the orc.
What?
"Hey, Nexar," I whispered sharply, "he bled during the match, right? So why the hell does he look untouched?"
[I noticed it too,] Nexar's words scratched into the air. [I'm checking as to why.]
I turned to Quinn, anger rising. "Hey! Something's seriously wrong here! What are you doing?" I shouted.
Quinn glanced at me, almost casual. "Oh, your match is over?" she asked, then turned back toward Sera, who was still trembling, bleeding out in front of us. "Grig's skill… Mindcanivas (A). It lets him make the target's brain register the pain meant for him."
"Huh?" My stomach twisted. "Then how the hell is he healed?"
"I don't know. There isn't much written about that skill," Quinn admitted.
"Tsk…" I clenched my jaw. Of course. An A-rank skill. But still… no. Something didn't add up.
"Hey, Nexar. Is that true?" I asked.
[No way. You're not dumb enough to believe that, are you?]
I almost had...
[Not even the earth spirit king himself could pull off something like that. No way an A-rank skill alone would leave him spotless.]
"Then how is he unscathed?" I demanded.
[He's not unscathed,] Nexar corrected. [The wounds are there. They're just closed. And it's not from his skill. It's the Dracolisk Fang.]
My eyes widened. "What?"
[Mindcanivas only messes with the target's body. Weakens their muscles by amplifying killing intent or bloodlust straight into their mind. But the regeneration? That's the artifact he's wearing. Among those teeth and skulls. It doesn't make blood, so he's still losing it… just not as fast as Sera bleeds.]
I ground my teeth together until my jaw hurt. "Hey!" I snapped, pointing at Grig. "Your fighter's cheating. He's using an artifact in the duel!"
Quinn's face hardened. She frowned. "Are you accusing my tribe of cheating?"
"Assuming I don't have hearing problems, yeah. That's exactly what I said." I glared at her.
Her eyes burned crimson. "You've got guts for a human. But if you're wrong, not even your wish to my husband will save you from me."
A wall of flame roared to life between the orc and Sera. Quinn's flame magic.
I moved without thinking, rushing forward. My arms caught her before she collapsed. "Sera!" I called, pulling her close.
Her eyes fluttered, darting weakly to me. "Rune…" she whispered.
"Sera, I'll ask for a potion. Just stay with—"
"Rune…" she cut me off, her voice trembling. "I will win... Don't leave me."
She repeated it, clinging to the words even as her senses faded. She'd been under Mindcanivas far too long.
I gripped her tighter.
Grig barked, his voice echoing across the broken battlefield. "What's the meaning of this, Commander Quinn? Why would you interrupt the ritual?"
I ignored him. My eyes were on Tugnier, still sitting in silence, his expression carved from stone even as the ceremony fell into chaos. He hadn't moved a muscle.
Quinn finally spoke, her tone calm but sharp enough to cut the air. "We need to check you before we continue." She stepped toward Grig, her presence heavy.
"Ch–check?" the orc stammered, his bravado slipping.
"Yes." Quinn's eyes narrowed. "You are being accused of using an artifact. Once you are proven innocent, appropriate punishment will be given… to the accuser." Her voice carried the weight of command, leaving no room to argue.
Grig's body tensed. His eyes darted toward the guards now moving behind him, weapons at the ready. He stumbled back a step, then another.
"Why are you backing away?" Quinn's tone turned cold, her pupils glowing faintly.
The orc flinched. "I… I don't comply to the checking. I am innocent! You should punish the accuser, not the innocent!"
I tightened my grip around Sera's half-conscious body, watching the exchange with burning frustration. She was bleeding in my arms while the bastard who caused it tried to slither his way out.
Quinn ignored his protests and closed the distance. "I'm not punishing anyone until I know who's wrong." She grabbed the threads of bones and teeth he wore across his chest and tore them loose with a single pull.
"No! No!" Grig's eyes went wide as he tried to catch the scattering relics. His hands scrambled desperately for the largest fang among them.
But Quinn was faster. She caught his wrist and yanked it open, pulling free a jagged, dark-green tooth that pulsed faintly with power. Her face froze in disbelief. "Dracolisk Fang…" she whispered.
Finally, Tugnier spoke from his throne, his voice heavy but calm. "That artifact is found only in the Human Empire." His eyes sharpened like blades as he stared at Grig. "It seems you failed to turn in the loot from our recent heist."
The weight of his gaze pressed down. Grig began to shake, sweat rolling down his forehead in thick streams. Every orc knew. Keeping the tribe's loot for oneself was an unforgivable crime.
"I… I…" Grig stuttered, his words breaking apart.
Quinn's aura flared blue, searing the air around her. "You not only cheated in the duel… you stole the loot of the cave?"
"No… it's not me…" Grig's mind cracked under the pressure. His voice was raw, desperate. "It was Dra—"
A voice from above cut him off. "Commander Quinn, why grant a traitor the right to speak? He should be judged in this sacred ground."
Grig froze. His eyes widened in horror at the betrayal. "What…" he breathed, looking at the owner of the voice. Drane.
"It's you, fucker, who gav—" His accusation was silenced by a brutal thud. Rack's heavy foot smashed into his face, sending him sprawling. A spray of blood and teeth hit the ground.
"Criminals don't get to speak," Rack growled, dragging his foot across the stone to wipe off the blood.
Grig whimpered, crawling on hands and knees until he clutched at Quinn's leg. "Ish… not mee…" His words slurred through missing teeth, tears streaking his face.
Quinn's expression didn't shift. She shook him off with disgust, kicking him away. Then she turned and bowed deeply to Tugnier. "Commander, please punish this traitor."
Every orc in the grounds followed her lead, lowering their heads in unison.
Tugnier let out a long breath, his massive hands pressing into the armrests of his throne as though preparing to rise.
That was when I spoke.
"Tugnier."
The orc commander's brow twitched at my tone. No respect. No ritual formality. Just my voice cutting through the air.
"I remember you said you'd grant a wish to the victors of the duel," I said. "My wish is still due."
He finally turned his gaze on me.
"As you can see, we have a small interruption in the ritual. We will get to your wish once we deal with—"
"I want my wish granted now." I cut him off without hesitation.
For a heartbeat, silence swallowed the arena. Tugnier's eyes narrowed.
"What is it?" His voice was calm but tinged with annoyance.
"A duel," I said.
His head tilted slightly. "What?"
"I want a duel with Grig. Instead of Sera." My arms tightened around her battered body. She was covered in cuts, her clothes soaked red. Her breaths came shallow. All of this... every ounce of suffering... was because of him.
Tugnier looked almost amused. "You can't kill him during a duel. Why not simply ask for his life?"
"I've made my wish," I answered firmly. "I'll take her place. The victor gets the right to a wish. As per the ritual's rules."
Rack snarled before Tugnier could respond. "How can we let this traitor stay loose for long!"
"Still better than him going back on his word." I met his glare with a mocking smile.
"You—!" Rack roared, stepping forward like he meant to crush me where I stood.
But Quinn moved between us in an instant, blocking him with a single step. Her gaze was cold enough to freeze the fire in his throat.
"Are you deciding for Commander Tugnier now, Rack?"
Rack faltered, sweat breaking out along his temple. "N-no… I wouldn't dare." He backed off quickly.
Tugnier studied me for a long, silent minute, weighing something behind his heavy eyes. Finally, he exhaled and spoke.
"Proceed."