Chapter 12 : Chapter 12

Chapter 12. Arena (2)

I was a bumpkin who had lived his whole life in a village known even among backwaters as a backwater, so I hadn’t known. And my master was an old man who had vanished into history hundreds of years ago, so he hadn’t known either.

“You don’t have a medal?”

To participate in the matches of the 「Arena」, one needed an item called a ‘medal.’

“It must be your first time visiting. If you don’t have a medal, you’ll need to have one issued and come back. Without a medal, I can’t give you an application form.”

The receptionist wore a friendly face as she said something that was utter bullshit.

She rambled on about why medals were necessary and how the 「Arena」 was run, but I, standing dumbly, cut straight to the point.

“Then I have to line up again?”

“That’s right.”

Looking back, the long line that had stretched out since dawn hadn’t shrunk at all—it had grown even longer. And I was supposed to wait through all that again? With a grandpa who never shut up about old stories I didn’t even care about…?

「Don’t give me that irreverent look.」

“……”

「I didn’t know either.」

The receptionist looked at me like I was a country hick. On her smiling face, I could almost see the words: “There’s actually some idiot who doesn’t even know you need a medal to register for the Arena.” Dropping my shoulders, I let out a deep sigh.

“Ha, damn it.”

「I told you before—stop at ‘damn.’」

***

‘Medals’ were coin-shaped pieces divided into black, white, platinum, gold, silver, and bronze. Classified as Black Medal, White Medal, Platinum Medal, Gold Medal, and so forth, these items hadn’t existed in Liam’s time. The reason for their birth was simple.

「It wasn’t like this before. Whether it was some northern barbarian with a blood-soaked axe or a trembling noble clutching a sword, they shoved them all into the ring with their mugs of beer.」

“That was centuries ago.”

Unlike the brutal days of the 「Arena」 of old, this battlefield had grown too big. For hundreds of years it had consistently raked in profit, enough to turn a minor city into a major metropolis, making it a famous and symbolic place.

Even if the Iron Kingdom was full of lunatics, there was no way fights to the death could continue endlessly for centuries. Over time, fighters wanted to leave matches alive even if they lost, and audiences wanted real, fierce fights rather than anticlimactic battles ending in a single blow due to mismatched strength.

Thus, medals were created.

So that absurd pairings like a 「Sword Beginner」 versus a 「Sword Runner」 would never occur. So that clueless novices wouldn’t be matched against seasoned veterans.

Simply put, they standardized weight classes.

Black against black, platinum against platinum, gold against gold. To ensure fights worth watching.

Losers fight losers, masters fight masters—wasn’t that more entertaining? So in short…

“The times have changed.”

I looked at Liam as I spoke.

“And I’ve also heard that these days, even when fighters win, they don’t usually take their opponent’s life. They might stage the killing, but if they actually kill, they’ll draw grudges and condemnation.”

「Hmph, what is this, a bard’s play put on at some tavern…」

While Liam mocked what the Arena had become, we arrived at the office where medals were issued. Unlike the friendly receptionist, the man behind the desk had a rough, menacing face.

“Here to get a medal?”

“Ah, yes.”

The man spoke with a bored expression, digging in his ear.

“Got anything to prove your identity?”

“No.”

“Then any respectable career? Experience with a knight order? Belong to a notable guild and carried out quests? If not, at least fought in a small war? If not that either, then at the very least an academy diploma?”

“…I have none of those.”

After my second “no,” the man let out a sneering chuckle, looking at me with disdain. His gaze made me bristle.

“Looks about right.”

His next words stung even more. But what stung the most was…

“Here, take it. The medal that suits you best.”

What he handed me was a filthy, stained bronze medal. Or rather, not bronze.

「Shit-colored.」

“Master, you don’t need to say it out loud.”

And so, I received a ‘Bronze’ Medal.

***

Bronze. The very bottom of the medal ranks.

Since I had no means of proving my skill, it was only natural. Perhaps it was even fitting. After all, it had been only a month since I first held a sword properly under Liam, and I had just become a 「Sword Beginner」 novice.

「Isn’t this better than being slaughtered instantly by an opponent beyond your level?」

Well, Liam wasn’t wrong. And so I completed my registration at the 「Arena」 with Bronze rank.

They told me the Bronze duels would begin tonight.

“That’s true.”

With time to spare until the match, I wandered around the Arena, absentmindedly stroking the hilt of the Needle at my waist. I had nothing particular to do, no money for entertainment, and most of all, I didn’t like the noisy, unfamiliar atmosphere.

Truly, I preferred my home village.

Quiet, peaceful, filled with treasured memories.

「This battle will be a good experience.」

“Will it?”

「Yes. You’ve never fought an opponent on your own level, have you?」

Thinking about it, that was true.

「The intruders were far below you, and that wheezing knight, Fetel, was far above you—an overwhelming foe you couldn’t handle.」

“That’s right.”

「So you’ve never yet used your true talent properly.」

True talent? I gave Liam a questioning look.

「Suspicion. Your inborn paranoia, nearly an illness.」

“……”

「You’ll learn soon enough how sharp a weapon that can be.」

My suspicion had often helped me in the past.

In many ways.

So it would work even more dramatically against equal opponents? I still couldn’t clearly picture it.

As I mused, Liam spoke.

「Young descendant, what is that?」

“Yes?”

When I looked, he was staring intently to the left. Following his gaze, I saw a wall adorned with ornate designs. Displayed there like decorations were countless swords. Beneath each blade were names scrawled in flowing script.

While I gazed blankly at the swords, someone approached.

“Young lord, you’ve discovered the Hall of Honor.”

“The Hall of Honor…?”

The speaker was an elderly man with snow-white hair, dressed neatly like a gentleman. Through his monocle a kindly gaze shone. He gave the impression of being this place’s curator.

“These displayed weapons belonged to warriors who achieved great feats in the Arena. Their edges are dulled, their steel worn from use, so they hold little value as arms… but we keep them here to honor their spirit.”

“Ah…”

“If you have any questions, please ask freely. I am the curator of this glorious place. Call me Tom.”

My guess was right.

The smile of Curator Tom was gentle, reassuring. The kind of face that looked ready to share words of blessing. As I relaxed, Liam spoke.

「Boy. Ask him how you might take one of those swords. Whether you can receive one, or purchase one.」

I glanced at Liam.

He added:

「There is a sword there exactly suited for you. Devouring it would help greatly.」

Ah, I see.

I nodded and quickly spoke to Tom.

“This Hall of Honor truly feels historically significant. Just gazing at the equipment they once wielded, I can feel the passion, the fighting spirit, the undying courage of those warriors rising in my own chest.”

“Haha, you’re quite discerning, young lord.”

“Collectors would certainly covet these. If I were one, I’d long for them as well. To see blades that ignite a man’s heart just by looking—what jewels could compare? Aren’t they magnificent?”

The words flowed without a drop of sincerity.

Watching Tom’s reactions carefully, guided by my suspicion, I said exactly what he’d like. Sure enough, Tom smiled warmly and spoke freely. I listened enough, then slipped in my real question.

“Might there be a way to obtain one of those swords?”

“Ah, of course there is.”

Perhaps my flattery had worked.

Tom answered gladly.

“Warriors who prove themselves earn the right to claim a sword from the Hall, according to the color of their medal.”

“Could you tell me more?”

Tom nodded.

“Each time your medal changes color, you may take one sword. What a splendid keepsake, don’t you think?”

Perfect.

The moment I heard that, my goal became clear.

‘I must earn a Silver Medal.’

I had to.

Before I returned to the village.

***

So beyond merely raising my skill as a 「Sword Beginner,」 I now had a clear purpose. By winning victories and proving myself, my medal would change color. And with each change came a reward. To others it was a souvenir—to me, the most precious prize.

「Looks like you’ll be coming to the Arena often. You’ll need to keep raising your level and taking useful swords whenever you can.」

“It’s called the Arena now, not the Arena of old.”

I corrected him, but Liam ignored me and rambled on.

「Those blades in the Hall of Honor are like a treasure vault for you. So many are filled with golden memories.」

“……”

「Seems there are improvements in this era after all.」

So the Hall of Honor hadn’t existed in Liam’s time.

As I stretched, Liam spoke.

「If it were up to me, I’d steal them all. But that curator old man wasn’t ordinary.」

“Not ordinary? I didn’t sense anything.”

「Of course you didn’t. The gap was too wide.」

Liam looked at me as I stretched further.

「That old man wore Armor, even if only half complete.」

“Armor… meaning?”

「Sword Expert.」

Sword Expert.

Just below Swordmaster, a terrifying class ruling the battlefield as gods of war.

My eyes widened.

I didn’t bother asking why such a monster worked as a curator. Though Liam loved jokes, he never lied about swords.

Never.

Liam said:

「We’ll have to rob the Hall of Honor much later.」

I wanted to ask why “robbing” it was already a given, but had no time for nitpicking. By the time I’d finished stretching, a guard with a spear entered. He spoke in a flat tone matching his blank face.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

It was time for my debut match in the 「Arena.」