Chapter 64

Rifrigon (8)

Girok put on his clothes with a blank expression.

He took out his main sword from his waist and examined it from all angles before putting it back in the scabbard and tightening the belt.

Click.

After finishing his preparations and going downstairs, a woman approached him with a smile.

"Are you all set?"

"Hmm."

"Here, this is a drink made with lemon and sugar. Drink it all up."

Girok drank the drink the woman handed him in one gulp and handed back the empty cup.

"Then, good luck."

As he stepped out to the entrance, he looked at the woman who was seeing him off.

She was smiling brightly, but he could sense a faint, indescribable darkness on one side of her face.

It was something that always happened before a match, but today it seemed especially deep.

The woman was Girok's wife.

Their relationship began when Girok saved her from being unjustly captured and taken to a detention center by a slave trader.

Girok thought to himself once again that one could never predict where life would lead.

He had thought he would spend his life swinging a sword and die a lonely death, but he had met a woman he truly loved.

"Don't worry, Ely. I'll win and come back."

Kissing his wife's cheek, Girok left the mansion.

After passing through the familiar streets and arriving at Actifol, he immediately moved to the waiting room.

"The time has come."

Walking down the dark corridor to the arena, a thunderous roar of the crowd greeted him.

Girok glanced around the stands and then fixed his gaze forward.

He saw a woman standing on the opposite side of the iron cage.

'...Rif.'

She glared at him with a fierce look, and he stared back with a deep, calm gaze.

The championship match.

Although he had defeated countless challengers, this match was particularly special for Girok.

The first time he saw Rif fight was about three years ago.

It was around the time Girok had just become the new champion.

A young girl, not yet a woman, stood in the arena with a single sword.

Her opponent was a man twice her size. It was a match that seemed impossible from the start.

As expected, Rif was easily overpowered, and the man, instead of killing her immediately, tried to assault her.

In Actifol, whatever one did to an opponent was just part of the performance.

However, in the end, it was Rif who survived.

Girok still vividly remembered the scene.

She bit the man's neck like a flash of lightning when he was distracted, and even as he drew a dagger in shock and stabbed her repeatedly, she held on, fighting with a fierce determination.

Even after the man's body went limp and stopped moving, Rif continued to bite his neck, even after she lost consciousness.

"..."

Girok slightly turned his head and looked up at the top of the arena.

He also couldn't forget the sinister, malevolent smile on the face of the Sixth Overlord, who had watched the entire match.

'Wasn't it that her younger brother had contracted hemophilia?'

'...Yes, that's right.'

'Heal him and keep him alive. Teach her how to survive and fight.'

Following that order, Girok taught Rif many things: how to accumulate mana, how to wield a sword, how to move her body...

Of course, Rif did not refuse. She had to learn from anyone, anything, to survive in this hell.

He just taught, and she just learned. There was no emotional exchange.

Certainly, Girok had taught her a lot, but their relationship was a strange one, not quite that of master and student.

She became incredibly strong at an astonishing rate. She was not only desperate but also naturally talented for combat.

Time passed, and in no time, she became a fifth-class gladiator and now stood before him, challenging for the champion's position.

'So it's come to this, in the end...'

Girok finished his brief contemplation.

In the past, if he had no reason to live, he might have just given up on this match.

But now, he had a reason to survive.

Just as she had a brother to save, he had a happiness to protect.

- ...The championship match everyone has been waiting for! The highly anticipated match is about to begin!

As soon as the match started, Rif launched herself at him.

Seeing her charge fiercely, Girok calmly raised his sword.

Clang!

The two gladiators' swords clashed.

Girok forcefully deflected Rif's sword. She bent her waist to narrowly avoid the follow-up attack and immediately swung her sword at his lower body, but it was easily blocked.

The two sword blades, enveloped in blue sword energy, clashed and intertwined. The chaotic exchange of blows continued.

Rif was the one mainly on the offensive. She attacked Girok like a madwoman, as if she had multiple lives.

Girok, with his usual stoic expression, dodged and blocked all her attacks.

Rif's appearance seemed to suggest she had lost her mind, but Girok knew that wasn't the case. Her eyes still held a cold, calculating calm.

She knew that she couldn't defeat Girok with pure skill alone, having learned from him.

Thus, the only way was to make him let his guard down.

Finding a gap in his defense, no matter how small, and thrusting her sword through it was the only path to victory.

But it was only a slim possibility.

Girok, of course, saw through her intentions. If he were the kind of person to let his guard down, he wouldn't have survived as champion for so long.

Thud!

Girok's kick landed on Rif's abdomen.

Rif gasped and stepped back. Without giving her a moment's respite, the attack continued.

Now, Girok began his counterattack, fiercely pressing her. Rif was forced to retreat, struggling to defend herself.

Her body was gradually covered in more and more wounds. The situation, which had quickly turned in his favor, seemed unlikely to reverse.

Rif clenched her teeth and desperately tried to regain her momentum.

Suddenly, Girok's sword slashed across her side.

"Ugh...!"

Girok momentarily withdrew his sword and coldly stared at her as she staggered.

If Rif had had a bit more time, if the situation weren't so urgent, she would have eventually defeated Girok and become the champion.

But there was a fundamental difference in skill between them at this moment.

Holding her bleeding side, Rif straightened her posture. Her eyes flashed with determination.

Her fighting spirit remained unbroken, but that was all.

Girok also raised his sword again, preparing to end the match.

'Even if you become the champion... '

Her brother's life was one that could never be saved from the beginning.

Girok was certain of this.

He knew how terrifyingly cruel the Sixth Overlord, that demon, was.

So, perhaps it was better for her to die here.

"...I'm sorry."

He muttered softly.

"I'll be there to see your brother off."

Rif's face contorted like a ghost's.

Girok pushed off the ground and launched himself.

Swish!

Girok's sword slashed across her body.

In her normal state, she could barely block his attacks. With her severe injuries, the duel could not continue.

"Raaaah!"

Rif roared in agony, swinging her sword in a fit of rage. But her sword did not even touch Girok.

Blood splattered on the ground. Rif's body was a mess, still standing despite the injuries, desperately protecting her vital points.

Girok decided to end it. He gathered his mana and prepared to pierce her heart after deflecting her sword.

At that moment.

"?! "

A sudden nausea and paralysis overcame Girok.

He couldn't block the attack. Rif's sword slashed across his side, and his body staggered.

Rif didn't miss the opportunity. With her last remaining strength, she thrust her sword at his heart.

"!"

Girok looked down at the sword blade piercing his chest in disbelief.

His body felt heavy and cold, as if he had been poisoned.

It wasn't just because the sword had pierced his heart.

'Something... What is this...?'

A thought flashed through his mind.

The drink his wife had given him before he left home.

Girok turned his head with great effort and looked up at the top of the arena. There, he saw the Sixth Overlord smiling joyfully.

'...Ah.'

Only then did Girok realize.

The result had been decided from the beginning.

He looked at Rif with a sense of futility. Her body, covered in blood, was desperately holding onto her sword.

'In the end, both of us... '

We are just puppets in the hands of that demon, dying.

The sword was pulled out, and Girok's body collapsed.

***

Panting heavily, Rif looked down at Girok's fallen body with a dazed expression.

'...I won.'

I won.

I killed Girok. I defeated the champion.

An indescribable mix of emotions surged within her: joy and sorrow, a sense of achievement and guilt, all tangled together.

Rif bit her lip and staggered forward.

There was no cheer from the stands.

The audience, as if by some unspoken agreement, remained silent, watching the scene.

Rif moved to just below where the Tyrant sat and fell to her knees.

"...I have won!"

She shouted loudly, her voice cracking.

"I am now the champion of Actifol!"

In the silence, the Tyrant smiled.

"Yes... "

He looked down at her and spoke.

His quiet but powerful voice echoed clearly throughout the arena.

"Tell me your wish."

"My brother!"

Rif paused, overwhelmed by her emotions, then shouted again.

"I humbly request of the great Sixth Overlord! Please heal my brother's hemophilia! That is my only wish!"

The Tyrant's smile deepened.

"To heal your brother's disease?"

"..."

"Your love for your kin is truly admirable. Very well, I will heal your brother as you wish."

Just as joy was about to fill Rif's face,

"There is something else to do first."

"..."

She looked up at the Tyrant in confusion.

He was smiling.

It was a smile like someone about to pluck a sweet fruit they had carefully cultivated for a long time.

The Tyrant turned his gaze to the announcer on one side of the arena.

The announcer, catching his eye, immediately shouted.

- ...Now, to celebrate the birth of a new champion after several years, the special event match will begin immediately!

This caused a commotion in the stands.

There had never been such an event match after a championship before.

Rumble.

The iron gate on one side of the arena opened.

But it was not the gate for gladiators, but for captured monsters.

Rif's expression slowly twisted into something incomprehensible as she stared at the scene.

The figure that walked out was a familiar boy.

Only, his entire body was dyed a dark red, making him look like a monster.

"A, a... "

Rif let out a dazed moan as she looked at the boy, her brother.

Grrr.

The boy glared at her with bloodshot eyes.

It was a look that seemed to see her not as his sister but as an enemy to be torn apart immediately.

"I can heal your brother's disease. Of course, we must finish the remaining match first, right?"

The Tyrant's voice, laced with laughter, echoed in her ears, like the whisper of a demon.

He laughed as if he couldn't contain his joy, looking at Rif, who had collapsed in a daze.

"Come on, what are you doing? Hurry up and kill that monster."

The boy, having lost his mind, charged at her.

***

"..."

I sighed as I watched the tragedy unfolding in the arena.

I had come to watch the championship match to confirm the outcome before leaving the city. I was still thinking about the last time I saw her in the shop.

But the match was taking an unexpected turn.

'So this was your plan all along.'

I glared at the Blood King, sitting high up in the arena.

Did he deliberately inject more blood into her brother to trigger the hemophilia?

I had suspected he had some ulterior motive, but the Tyrant's cruelty far exceeded my imagination.

If things continued this way, she would either have to kill her brother with her own hands or be killed by him. In Actifol, a match only ended when one side was dead.

Azel, standing beside me, watched the match with a grim, pained expression.

The audience was cheering even more excitedly than during Girok's match.

Unfortunately, I couldn't help her.

Hemophilia could only be cured if the Tyrant died.

Rescuing the sisters and killing the Tyrant was out of the question.

Killing one Overlord by another was tantamount to making all of Caldric your enemy.

This absolute rule was why the Overlords, with their different natures, did not interfere with each other, and why the order and system of Caldric had been maintained for centuries.

"Tsk."

I clicked my tongue and turned to leave.

I found the place repulsive and was about to leave the arena.

"?! "

Suddenly, an intense headache hit me, and I grabbed my forehead, staggering.

Azel, startled, caught me.

"...Lord Ron? What's wrong?"

I pushed her away, frowning.

'What is this...?'

Unknown memories were flowing through my mind.

Déjà vu? A sense of familiarity?

A strange feeling as if this had happened before.

[All of them, I'll kill them all!]

The image of a boy holding the body of a dead woman, Rif, and screaming.

[You made a contract with a demon? Ah, you had such rare talent, but you wasted it.]

Time passed, and the image of a completely transformed boy and the Overlord standing in front of him, restraining him.

[How about making a pact with me? I'll spare your life. In return, you'll become the seventh Overlord of Caldric for just five years. After that, I won't interfere with anything you do.]

...And a city.

In the midst of burning flames, the image of a boy smiling brightly and committing a massacre.

"..."

The headache subsided, and no more memories came.

I looked down at the arena with a confused expression.

I stared at the boy, who was wildly attacking his sister.

***

Rif moved her body, which felt like it was about to collapse, with all her might.

The boy, like a wild beast, pounced on her, trying to bite and tear her. His strength was far beyond that of a normal person.

She could do nothing to resist. She couldn't even counterattack with