Chapter 61

Rifregon (5)

I took the van out of the prison and immediately took it to the potion shop.

I used my heightened senses to the max, worried that the Tyrant might try to track us, but no one followed us. It was an unnecessary worry.

"Thank you so much, Pleon! I really appreciate it!"

"It’s all thanks to the lord on this side. What do I have to be thanked for?"

We arrived at the shop, and he kept thanking me and Gulpiro repeatedly.

I wondered who Pleon was, but then I remembered it was his alias.

"Are you leaving right away?"

In response to my question, Gulpiro glanced around the shop and answered.

"I need a few days. I’ll be leaving most things behind, but there’s a lot to sort out."

Hmm, that’s true.

It would take some time to pack and organize his belongings.

Although staying in the Tyrant’s city any longer wouldn’t be ideal, a few days wouldn’t make much of a difference.

"Still, I really appreciate you getting the van. I’ll consider it a debt and keep it in mind."

Gulpiro smiled faintly.

Getting the van was a condition for him to follow me to the 7 Princes’ Territory, so it wasn’t really a debt.

But he seemed to consider even this a debt to be repaid later, which was good for me.

"Since you never know, I’ll leave Ashel here to guard you until you’re ready."

I said, looking at Ashel.

The Tyrant didn’t seem to care what I was doing in Mahaea, but it was better to be cautious until we left.

However, Gulpiro shook his head firmly.

"That’s not necessary. I can take care of myself."

【Lv. 56】

I looked at the level above his head.

Of course, Gulpiro’s level was quite high.

Although he was an alchemist, not a fighter, he was far from ordinary, given his continent-wide reputation.

His magic skills were also considerable, so he probably wouldn’t be in danger under normal circumstances... I nodded.

"Alright. How long will it take to sort things out?"

"A week should be enough."

"Then I’ll come back then."

After a bit more conversation with Gulpiro, I left the shop.

I told Ashel, "Keep an eye on the shop from a distance. Report anything suspicious."

Ashel glanced around the shop and nodded.

"Yes, understood."

It wouldn’t hurt to have this level of security as a precaution.

With that, I left Ashel behind and headed back to the inn.

As I walked out of the alley, a familiar woman approached from the opposite direction.

"..."

I stopped and turned my head.

I stared at her retreating back as she entered the potion shop I had just left, then turned around again.

***

"I’m sorry, but we still don’t have any information."

The man in the black robe said calmly.

Rif, sitting opposite him, glared at him silently.

"It’s not just anything, it’s hemophilia. Do you think finding a survivor is that easy?"

"..."

"We’re doing our best, but it will take more time. If you want to cancel the request, that’s up to you..."

She clenched her teeth and pulled out a money pouch from her bosom, handing it to him.

The man smiled and took the money pouch.

"I’ll mobilize more people to expand the search area. I’ll have good news for you next time."

He got up and left the room.

The subordinate standing behind the man asked quietly, "Are you really going to increase the search force?"

"Are you crazy? We’re already short on manpower, and we can’t waste it on something useless."

The man shook his head and leaned back in his chair.

"Hemophilia survivor? There’s no way they exist. Even if they did, there’s no way to cure it."

"But it’s been half a year, hasn’t it? At this point, you’d think she’d cancel the request, but she’s persistent."

"The woman probably knows deep down that it’s futile. She’s just clinging to a last straw."

The man chuckled.

"Well, as long as we keep up the pretense and take the money, it’s fine."

Rif walked down the street after leaving the information guild building.

Ignoring the curious glances from passersby, her next destination was the potion shop.

She opened the door, and Gulpiro, who was smoking at the counter, looked at her.

"You’re here?"

He pulled out a bottle of potion with a red glow from a drawer, as if it were a routine.

Rif took the potion and placed a few silver coins on the counter, then left without a word.

Gulpiro removed the pipe from his mouth and said, "I’m leaving Mahaea soon. Probably in about a week."

"..."

She turned around in a hurry.

"Don’t worry. I’ve entrusted the potion formula to Master Malik at the Blue Dew Shop. They’ll take over the production."

"…Why are you leaving all of a sudden?"

"There are some circumstances."

She stood there for a moment, then left the shop.

"Tsk."

Gulpiro clicked his tongue and put the pipe back in his mouth, looking at the closed door with a sad expression.

***

Thud.

A rock hit Rif’s head as she walked down the street.

She stopped and turned her head.

A middle-aged man glared at her with red eyes.

"You damn monster! You killed my son! Do you remember?"

People around him tried to calm him down.

Rif brushed the dirt off her head and continued walking.

The commotion drew a crowd. Some people looked at her with hostile eyes, and whispers spread.

"Persistent bitch, how long do you think you can survive after killing so many..."

The gladiatorial fights in Actipol.

Surviving these death matches meant killing others.

It also meant that more and more people wished for her death.

Many of the gladiators, like her, had family in this city.

Rif bit her lip.

She clutched the potion in her hand and kept walking.

When she got home, a woman came to the door to greet her.

"Ah, you’re here?"

The woman was her brother’s caretaker.

There was a guard and a caretaker in the house.

3rd-class gladiators could live freely in the city outside of matches and earned a lot of money. As a top 5th-class gladiator, Rif was no exception.

"Your brother just finished eating."

"How is he today?"

"He had a few episodes of hemoptysis a few hours ago, but he’s stable now, so don’t worry."

Rif nodded and went upstairs to his room.

When she opened the door, she saw a boy with the same ash-gray hair sitting on the bed.

He smiled widely when he saw Rif enter.

"Welcome, sister."

Rif smiled faintly and sat in a chair.

"How are you feeling?"

"I’m fine. I told you, I feel like I’m getting better every day."

They had a brief, meaningless conversation. The boy did most of the talking, and Rif listened.

The two sisters avoided any mention of the gladiatorial matches, as if by unspoken agreement.

The boy took a sip of the potion Rif handed him and made a face.

"It always tastes terrible. Can’t you make it taste better?"

"Stop complaining and drink it quickly."

The boy frowned but kept drinking.

His sleeve was rolled up, revealing his arm.

It was thin and pale, with abnormally swollen, dark red veins.

Rif’s eyes darkened as she looked at it.

"…But, sister."

After finishing the potion, the boy hesitated and spoke.

Rif immediately got up with the empty bottle, knowing what he was going to say.

"You must be tired. Go to sleep."

"No, I’m not tired... yet."

The boy suddenly clamped his hand over his mouth and bent over.

Rif was startled and threw the bottle aside, rushing to him.

"Cough, cough!"

Blood gushed from the boy’s mouth as he coughed violently.

"…Olia!"

Rif called the caretaker urgently.

The woman rushed in and checked the boy’s condition. She laid him down, calmed him, and wiped the blood from his mouth.

When his condition stabilized, she sighed with relief.

"He’s fine now. He’ll feel better after a good rest."

"…"

Rif looked at her brother, who was half-conscious, with a troubled expression, then left the room, leaving the caretaker behind.

Click.

She leaned her forehead against the wall next to the closed door.

Her face was etched with deep fatigue.

A small village not far from the capital of the 6th Principality.

Their original home.

Her brother was called a prodigy in the village.

The wandering knight Mr. Bai, who spent his remaining years teaching swordsmanship, and the old magician Mr. Dakio, who boasted of being a tower mage, both said her brother was a once-in-a-lifetime genius.

Even Rif, who knew nothing at the time, realized their praise wasn’t exaggerated.

Because her brother, after learning swordsmanship and magic for a short time, could cut down a large tree with one stroke and hunt animals with fireballs, which was abnormal to anyone’s eyes.

Her brother was a prodigy.

To him, the village’s boundaries seemed too narrow.

So they decided to send him away. Mr. Bai offered to help him find a place in the capital through his connections.

The family held a grand party the night before he left.

The villagers gathered to bless his future with joy and sorrow.

It was a late night.

Suddenly, one side of the sky turned dark red.

Her ears rang, and a storm hit. When she came to her senses, she saw the ruins of buildings and the bodies of villagers.

A thick fog of blood covered the entire village. The villagers’ screams were terrifying. The rest of the memory was a blur.

All she could remember clearly was her brother, who was trembling but embracing her, emitting a blue light from his hands, and the unknown energy that surged through her body.

When she came to her senses, the first thing she saw was her brother, unconscious beside her.

The area was in ruins. No one in the village was alive. Her parents, relatives, and friends were all gone.

She thought it was a dream, but it was a cruel reality.

With her brother, who was barely conscious, she managed to move to the capital.

From the chatter of passersby, she learned what had happened in the village.

There was a spy of Saintea in the Principality’s castle. After slaughtering the castle’s officials and fleeing, the 6th Prince personally pursued and executed him.

The battle took place near her village.

Her brother had contracted hemophilia, a deadly disease caused by the 6th Prince’s blood magic.

Those with even a little magic power could resist it, but for some reason, her brother contracted it.

Only then did she realize what the unknown energy in that hell was.

Her brother had transferred all his magic power to her, leaving him fully exposed to the terrifying blood fog.

The village was destroyed, her family was dead, and her only remaining brother was terminally ill. Her life had been plunged into the depths of despair.

She learned that there were gladiatorial fights called Actipol in the capital every day. The champion could have a wish granted by the 6th Prince.

Did she have a choice?

She walked into that hell herself and became a gladiator.

Over the past three years, she had faced death hundreds of times but managed to survive.

A 5th-class gladiator could challenge the champion at any time. Her long-awaited goal was right in front of her.

"…"

Rif, with a cold expression, lifted her head from the wall.

She would fight, win, survive, and cure her brother.

The past three years had been a hell she endured with this single-minded determination.

If she could cure her brother, she could stain her sword with more blood. She could build a mountain of corpses and it wouldn’t matter.

Now, there was nothing to fear, not even death.

There was only one fear.

If she challenged the champion and lost, her brother would be left alone.

This was the reason she hesitated, even though her goal was just one step away.

She looked at the closed door again and moved to her room.

Her body and mind were exhausted. She wanted to rest.