Chapter 46 : Chapter 46

Chapter 46. The Sword Demon (2)

“Did you hear the rumor?”

“What rumor?”

“They say the 「Black Bride」 has returned.”

That was one of the conversations overheard amidst the lively chatter in an inn of the Steel City, Ferma.

“They say she’s challenging for the Gold Medal this time.”

“Is that so?”

“You don’t sound very interested. Weren’t you quite the fan of the 「Black Bride」’s matches back in the day?”

“I was. But still... she’s the gladiator who lost to that worthless brat, isn’t she? After her undefeated streak was broken, she never fought again. I figured she gave up once she was beaten and probably just found some man to marry.”

“Well, yeah. Once the undefeated record’s gone, she’s not such a special fighter anymore.”

The 「Arena」 was cold and heartless. Here, attention gathered in an instant, flared up, and just as quickly cooled. The Arena, where battles were fought daily, overflowed with fighters. It wasn’t uncommon for a fighter who once drew massive crowds to suddenly fade into obscurity overnight.

And besides—this was the season of the 「Infinite Duel」. Everyone’s attention was focused there instead. Countless powerful warriors were gathering, and the audience was waiting only for that main event.

Still—“Anyway,” one man said, leaning closer.

It wasn’t just because of that.

“Remember the ‘Little Gladiator’? That brat with the strange sword who darted around and brought down those huge fighters one by one.”

“Ah, yeah, that one.”

“He’s back. And apparently, he’s doing something insane.”

Now, everyone’s attention has turned elsewhere.

“He’s fighting fifteen matches in two days, they say. And the Arena actually approved it.”

Madness. It was, as they said, an utterly insane stunt by the “Little Gladiator.”

And yet—“Doesn’t that sound exciting? My heart’s already racing.”

The Steel City was full of lunatics. Here, people went wild for madness. Burningly so.

“We have to see that one.”

***

Seol Yoon had received her letter of recommendation.

It was supposedly written by some knight from the Academy I didn’t know—a rather prestigious one, judging from the tone. He had sent it out of admiration for her genius, asking for no reward. Honestly, I was jealous.

She even secured her Gold Medal promotion match right away.

It really made my life feel twisted and unfair.

「It’s not a feeling. It’s reality.」

My master’s teasing only made it worse, stoking a pointless irritation. But irritation alone wouldn’t solve anything.

I needed answers.

“I’m worried about the recommendation letter issue.”

Who around me had enough authority to be recognized by the Arena? And who would willingly write me a recommendation?

There were a few candidates.

Lady Daisy White, who owed me a favor for fighting in Fetel’s place as a proxy warrior. If she wrote one, the Arena would unquestionably accept it. From what I saw of her status, Daisy was no small figure.

But I had no way to contact her. I still had the pure white medal she gave me to use in times of danger—but this wasn’t a time to waste it. It felt wrong to use it just for a letter, and, truthfully, it reminded me of Fetel too much to break it. I’d save it for when it truly mattered.

Could I ask Seol Yoon? Probably not. Her connections admired her genius, not mine. I had no idea if my talent would be enough to impress them, and I had no time to prove it. Why would those prestigious figures spend their time verifying my ability?

What about old Sir Vermartin—the knight who once told me to come back when I’d built my wings? He had the authority, yes. But there was no guarantee he’d help.

And the Orc Elder, my recent friend? I briefly pictured the old orc’s hearty laughter—“Puhelhelhel”—and immediately dismissed the thought. No explanation needed.

My connections were painfully thin.

‘Forget it. I’ll deal with the tricky problems later.’

I sighed deeply, then lifted my head. Before me stretched the vast circular Arena, and all around me, the crowd chattered, holding snacks and beer.

Yes, this time I was sitting in the stands. Not as a gladiator, but as a spectator.

「It’s starting.」

I was there to watch Seol Yoon’s “promotion match,” scheduled before mine.

“Now, the duel between the fighters will begin!”

I wasn’t nervous.

“This sacred duel shall be dedicated to Goddess Refri, the guardian of justice!”

Seol Yoon—The 「Black Bride」—would not lose this match.

***

The Arena staff didn’t look kindly on the Black Bride.

She had once defied their instructions in a match against the Little Gladiator, ruining their intended choreography. And as if that weren’t enough, this foreigner from the Eastern Continent refused to bow her head or act humble. Foreigners were supposed to be polite, weren’t they?

They hated the sight of that black-haired woman walking proudly with her chin held high.

But they couldn’t openly retaliate or humiliate her.

The Black Bride was an Academy prodigy, and among those who admired her were several influential figures—even within the Iron Kingdom. Those same people already despised the Arena’s planners, calling them “jesters.” To openly disgrace the genius they valued would surely earn their wrath. So, the planners couldn’t stage her promotion match as a public execution, like they did with the Little Gladiator. But they could still humiliate her in subtler ways—petty, cowardly, and dishonorable ways, as they always did.

“Up next—once known as the undefeated gladiator—the Black Bride!”

Seol Yoon slowly lifted her head beneath her helmet. The gritty wind carried sand across the Arena floor; the familiar pressure of countless eyes, and the weight of her helm pressing down on her head, were sensations she knew well.

“Her opponents—five brothers, the infamous ‘Knight Killers!’”

Through her visor, she saw them—men clad head to toe in thick black-iron armor. Black iron, said to be far tougher than ordinary steel—so hard that most blades couldn’t even scratch it.

“Even famous knights couldn’t pierce their armor! Five brothers who have never lost against knights and swordsmen alike! And against them stands the undefeated prodigy, the Black Bride, whose first and only loss came against the Little Gladiator! What a thrilling matchup!”

Her promotion match was set as a five-on-one. An absurd duel. And to make matters worse, the Arena had chosen fighters who were the worst possible matchup for a swordswoman.

‘I know those bastards.’

The Knight Killer brothers.

They were infamous—merciless fighters who hid behind their impregnable black armor and resorted to every kind of dirty trick. Always fighting as a group of five, they’d built their reputation crushing skilled swordsmen into despair.

For Seol Yoon, they were the worst opponents imaginable. A perfect setup by the Arena’s petty planners to humiliate her—just enough to hurt, but not enough to spark political trouble.

She couldn’t yet imbue her sword with mana. Her weapon wasn’t sharp enough to pierce black iron. And physically, she had the natural disadvantage of being a smaller woman.

The outcome was already decided—on paper, at least.

“Now, the duel shall begin!”

If this had been before she met Arhan, maybe so.

But the Seol Yoon standing here now was no longer the same “Black Bride.”

“This sacred duel shall be dedicated to Goddess Refri, the guardian of justice!”

As the announcer’s voice boomed, Seol Yoon slowly drew her sword.

A cold, metallic ring echoed as the blade slid free of its scabbard.

The ground vibrated faintly under her feet—the brothers were advancing.

“Black Bride. We’ve heard about you. Always wanted to see what the fuss was about.”

“They say you got cocky just ‘cause you had some skill. Tch. Don’t you know your place?”

“Even if you’re good with a sword, you can’t leave a scratch on us.”

Their mocking voices were followed by cruel laughter.

“Do you know how many knights have despaired before us?”

“First, we’ll take off that helmet to see if your face is as pretty as they say. After that... hmm, should we strip you from the top or the bottom first?”

“Let’s let the crowd decide. We’ll take a vote—”

Seol Yoon listened in silence. The loud, deliberate taunts weren’t worth responding to.

These weren’t amateurs—they knew how to provoke, to rattle an opponent’s mind.

But Seol Yoon didn’t fall for such mind games. Reacting to petty provocation was foolish.

She narrowed her eyes, raising her sword—not wildly, but precisely. One hand behind her back, the other extending the blade forward in a fencing-like stance, aimed straight at the advancing brothers.

“...What’s that supposed to be?”

“A warning.”

Her voice was terrifyingly calm.

“You haven’t studied swordsmanship long enough to understand, so I’ll warn you. This is the distance my sword reaches. Step inside it, and—”

She tilted her head slightly.

“—you die.”

The Knight Killers froze. Her words struck their pride like a slap in the face, mocking their record and experience. But still, they hesitated.

“It’s not a bluff. Not bravado, either.”

They could tell. Any true fighter could feel it.

Step forward, and die.

Their supposedly invincible black-iron armor wouldn’t save them this time. Cold sweat slid down their spines. The black-haired swordswoman, smaller than any of them, no longer looked small at all. She looked like a monster with a blade. But they couldn’t back down.

They knew that the moment they lost their nerve, their careers as gladiators were over. Lose in a five-on-one, and the whole Arena would laugh at them. Their supporters would abandon them. Their pride would be crushed.

Unacceptable.

So the eldest brother took a step forward, pushing through the fear.

He swung his massive iron mace.

“U—URGH!”

And then—“One.”

The eldest brother collapsed to the dirt, his body stiffened mid-swing. Blood oozed thickly from a neat cut at the back of his neck.

Seol Yoon flicked the blood from her blade with an emotionless gaze.

“Want to keep going? I can’t promise to leave anyone breathing. I’ll kill you one by one. No mercy. Not for anyone.”

No one saw how she did it.

Not the brothers standing right before her, not even the spectators. They saw no motion, no strike—only the result.

One step forward. Then a fall. And blood.

It was as if her sword hadn’t even moved.

“Y-you bitch—!”

The second brother lunged, swinging a vicious axe.

It sliced through the air with a savage roar—And Seol Yoon’s blade drew a circle.

A perfect, fluid circle, like an artist’s stroke.

The axe’s trajectory twisted unnaturally, slicing through empty air. A gap opened wide. Seol Yoon’s sword pierced straight through the thin eye slit in his helm—Blood gushed down his armor as he crumpled.

“Two.”

The duel was overwhelming.

Seol Yoon flicked the blood from her blade again and looked at the remaining brothers.

“Who’s next?”

***

Grumbles rose among the Arena’s audience.

“What the hell? Why are they just standing there?”

“They’re in black iron! Just rush her already!”

“Damn it, I bet money on those brothers!”

I sat quietly, watching, thinking.

「As expected, the audience has no idea what’s actually happening down there.」

“Indeed.”

The so-called Knight Killer brothers weren’t weak. They maintained a proper formation, closing in at measured distance, using their various weapons to try and pin Seol Yoon down. They clearly knew how to counter swordsmen—they’d built their fame crushing them, after all.

But Seol Yoon’s level was simply too high.

「Geniuses really are different.」

“She seems to have copied my techniques and turned them into something new.”

「That’s what geniuses do—they steal from others without hesitation.」

Seol Yoon had taken Mary’s 「Needle」 technique—those precise thrusts—and refined it into her own piercing sword style. And that overwhelming destructive power in her strikes…

「She even managed to mimic the Karavan Line to some extent.」

“……”

「It’s still crude compared to the real Line, but to display something like that without the Steel Blood... remarkable.」

The Knight Killers quickly lost their will to fight.

They surrendered to save their lives, and the crowd booed them loudly, shouting insults.

They would likely never stand in the Arena again. But it wasn’t their fault.

Seol Yoon was simply too strong for a Silver Medal bout.

「If only that girl were my descendant, tsk. How’d she end up with such a fool instead...」

“Thank you.”

I brushed off Liam’s grumbling as usual. As Seol Yoon’s promotion match ended anticlimactically, the audience muttered complaints—“Boring,” “Waste of time.” But among those voices, one stood out clearly.

“So what.”

I rose slowly from my seat.

“The crazy bastard’s match is about to start anyway. That’s what we’re really here for.”

Right.

“The Little Gladiator’s about to fight seven matches in a row, isn’t he?”

It was time to leave the stands—and step into the Arena myself.

It was time for Arhan—to become the gladiator, Liam.