Chapter 91

Chapter 91

Chapter 91

The metropolis controlled by the Lana Guild housed an open secret: an illegal fighting circuit that was experiencing an unparalleled surge in popularity.

Secrets were hard to keep, and speculations ran wild in the corners. It was whispered that envoys from high-ranking nobility had gathered in this commercial city to participate in the black market, and that the preliminary clashes served to decide who was in charge before the main transactions officially began.

For disputes of such caliber, where regulations were conspicuous by their absence, there was no more propitious stage than the clandestine pit.

Even the local inhabitants of the Lana Guild, hungry for unusual spectacles, flocked in droves to witness the carnage.

That was not a place designed for simple soldiers of fortune or low-level thieves. It was a ring destined for true titans: direct representatives of the aristocracy and contenders full of ambition anxious to validate their reputation.

Hidden under the most marginal sectors of the streets of Lana, a huge underground hollow opened.

Originally, the place served as a military corridor built in the era of the wars of unification, but the years had transformed and expanded it until it became the underground Colosseum, the very insignia of the shady business handled by the Lana Guild.

Immersed in that gloom was Dale.

“I come to sign up for the contests in this place.“

“…!“

The person in charge of registration held his breath upon hearing Dale’s request. The mercenaries and evildoers who were prowling around immediately fixed their gazes on the newcomer.

“Are you aware of the ground you are stepping on, especially considering the current landscape?“

Despite his rough manners, the employee showed a glimmer of concern for Dale’s fate and questioned him prudently.

“I know it perfectly.“

Dale nodded with a serene gesture and a slight smile.

“So that’s how it is…“

The man’s instinct, forged in the rawness of the underworld, immediately warned him that the individual in front of him possessed the profile of the exceptional warriors they so longed to see in the arena.

“All right. Stamp your signature here. Regarding the registration fees…“

The underground pit had various competition modalities.

Dale’s primary interest lay in the Champions’ Combat, the ideal category to measure his skill against the most fearsome exponents of the black market.

In many respects, that modality represented the heart and soul of the clandestine fights.

“However, before the main dispute, I would like to perform a small preparatory exercise.“

“Understood.“

Additionally, the venue offered a mode of permanence for consecutive victories, where the bearer of the crown had to repel new adversaries uninterruptedly until he bit the dust.

An excellent opportunity to warm up before the bigger challenges.

And, of course, there was no more efficient method to increase one’s wealth than that betting venue. Dale did not intend to waste the occasion to increase his own financial resources, independently of the coffers belonging to the Saxon family.

Motivated by such a resolution, Dale entered the depths of the underground grotto.

He advanced through a passage exclusive to competitors, totally isolated from the public stands, ready to put his own existence at stake in the arena.

The moment for Dale to jump into the spotlight arrived much sooner than expected.

A large number of the rivals who preceded him on the list preferred to give up and take to their heels.

“What is the reason for this stir?“

Driven by intrigue, Dale observed the battlefield from the edges of the waiting antechamber and what he beheld left him perplexed. The ground was flooded with vital fluids and organic remains scattered everywhere, giving the venue the gloomy appearance of a slaughterhouse.

That was the stark reality of the illegal pit, a space where taking a life was part of everyday entertainment.

At the epicenter of that bloody chaos, the winner raised his arms in a sign of victory. It was a combatant equipped with an imposing armor dyed completely black.

“A black armor?“

A deafening clamor erupted from the stands.

The frenzy caused by the violence, a true celebration of generalized insanity. That was the true identity of the guild city, a territory where death itself functioned as a passive distraction.

“The Butcher! The Butcher!“

That was the alias with which they baptized the warrior.

He held a large two-handed sword that immediately evoked the characteristic weaponry of the Saxon family. The energy he projected did not correspond at all to that of an average warrior. It denoted the technical refinement and strict discipline of a knight who had received an institutional and rigorous training.

Furthermore, his style had an air of familiarity.

“Who will rise to truncate the Butcher’s unbeatable streak?“

“He already has nine consecutive wins! He is one step away from reaching the tenth victory!“

“What a disappointment! Panic has taken hold of all the possible rivals!“

“It is well known that the Butcher’s victories always conclude with extreme cruelty!“

“Everything points to him claiming his tenth award in the absence of competitors!“

The amplified voices of the announcers reverberated with force throughout the underground venue.

“Me measure myself against such an aberration? No way!“

The final competitor who was just before Dale on the ladder chose to retreat. A reward of one thousand gold coins lacked any value if the price to pay was one’s own existence.

“What a misfortune! Another pusillanimous person who decides to escape!“

“Only one aspirant remains on the list! Will he have the guts to challenge the fearsome Butcher?“

“It’s a mystery! Judging by the robes hidden under that tunic, we could be facing someone out of the ordinary!“

Dale’s moment finally arrived. Without the slightest trace of hesitation, he walked with a firm step toward the combat area.

In the illegal fighting pit, any trick was valid in order to achieve victory.

There were only two unbreakable restrictions: the prohibition of manifesting the World of Ideas for magic practitioners, and the prohibition of deploying the Avatar for knights.

The use of the first technique would subtract visual spectacularity from the event, while the second possessed such an excessive destruction capacity that it would put the physical integrity of the spectators themselves at serious risk.

Precisely because of said limitations, Dale maintained absolute confidence in his triumph within the fight club.

Among the feudal envoys, there was the possibility that there were warriors who had mastered the Avatar level. Facing an opponent capable of manifesting the Avatar, not even Dale himself would have success assured.

However, with the faculties of the World of Ideas and the Avatar canceled, the circumstances took a radical turn.

Even assuming that his rival possessed the rank of Aura Master, Dale kept the certainty that he would not bite the dust.

Backed by the mythical Hero’s Sword and the power of his four magic circles, and considering that the Butcher did not belong to the rank of Avatar users, his conviction was unbreakable.

The eldest descendant of the duke took a position in the arena, ready to gamble everything.

If Elise, his progenitor, were to find out about such audacity, she would surely lose consciousness from the impact. A thought that caused an ironic grimace on Dale’s face.

“This is getting interesting.“

The Butcher readjusted the position of his hands on the handle of his great sword as Dale closed the distance.

“Just as I supposed.“

Dale’s suspicions turned out to be completely accurate.

The dark armor, intentionally modified with paint to erase any trace of heraldry, together with the structure of the two-handed sword… Despite the aesthetic alterations, the original matrix was unmistakable.

It was the equipment typical of the Night Crow knights belonging to the Saxon family, an order that granted large swords exclusively to those warriors who exceeded the Aura Knight threshold.

A true Zweihänder.

“What motives lead a Night Crow knight, bound by oath to the Saxon family, to debase himself to this scenario?“

“…!“

The question formulated by Dale sowed a sudden spark of turmoil in the Butcher’s eyes.

“Could it be that you are…?“

With his vital energy concentrating around the metal, the Butcher’s characteristic black aura sword manifested, the distinctive trait of the Saxon family’s Night Crow knights.

“Impressive!“

The crowd broke into a new burst of euphoria upon contemplating the manifestation of the energy.

“The Butcher has finally manifested his aura sword!“

“And the opponent in the tunic… under what alias should we identify him?“

“Who knows! It is likely that his existence will be extinguished before we have the opportunity to know his identity!“

“Finish him! Annihilate him! Annihilate him!“

“I demand victory from you! I have invested all my resources in your tenth consecutive triumph!“

The amphitheater turned into a hotbed of uncontrolled acclamations.

“Let’s make sure the atmosphere stays heated.“

After Dale’s reply, the Butcher attacked with ferocity. The dark two-handed sword characteristic of the Saxon family described a violent trajectory in the air. In that closed space where not the slightest breeze blew, Dale quickly drew the combat blade he carried at his side. A movement executed with such speed that it defied the logic of what was expected of a simple sorcerer.

Clang!

The impact of the aura sword was intercepted in its tracks.

“What kind of feat was that?“

“The mystic in the tunic has contained the onslaught of the Butcher’s aura sword using common, ordinary steel!“

“What my eyes see defies all logic!“

Under normal conditions, the clash between a conventional steel blade and an aura sword would derive in irreparable damage for the former, if it didn’t end up shattered on the spot. However, facing the onslaught of the Butcher’s dark weapon, Dale’s steel remained completely unscathed, conserving its perfect structure.

Not a single mark deteriorated the surface of the edge.

The mental will imprinted on Dale’s knight sword transcended the properties of an ordinary aura.

The notion of a magic user transferring his direct mental concepts to a sharp object was an aberration to anyone.

That was the direct benefit of intertwining his identity of yesteryear, the Hero’s Sword known as Peacemaker, with his entity of the present time.

At this moment, Dale demonstrated possessing capabilities that went beyond the virtuosity of the legendary hero. Four circles of power performed revolutions inside his chest. A magic energy of bluish and deep tonality began to spin like a whirlwind, causing his shadow attire to emit a characteristic glow.

The Butcher chose to jump back to restore the safety space. Dale took the opportunity to speak again.

“I will pose the question once more, disloyal warrior who trampled on your promise.“

“Is there a possibility that you are…?“

“What were the reasons for betraying the sacred vow of the Saxons?“

The motives that pushed him to turn his back on the Saxon lineage to end up stranded in this hole constituted a complete unknown.

It could well be a fugitive or someone who renounced by his own decision the military discipline of the Saxons. Departing from the service of a feudal lord was part of the prerogatives of chivalry.

However, using the dark steel of the Saxons devoid of any bond of fidelity toward said house represented an intolerable affront.

Dale finally proceeded to remove the piece that covered his face and openly declared:

“Why does an individual who dishonored the Saxon surname continue to wield the dark steel belonging to ‘our lineage’?”

An amalgam of shadows danced around his lower limbs. At only twelve years of age, he already mastered the secrets of the fourth circle of magic, standing as a true prodigy in the plane of mystical arts.

The most extraordinary talent in the entire extent of the empire, distinguished globally by an unmistakable nickname.

“The… Black Prince…”

At the precise moment the butcher uttered that appellation in a whisper, the shouting that flooded the pit ceased abruptly. However, the collective mutism was ephemeral.

“The Black Prince!”

“It is the Black Prince himself belonging to the Sachsen dynasty!”

“The Black Prince has made an appearance in the combat pit!”

In a matter of seconds, the atmosphere was flooded with cheers loaded with absolute frenzy.

“Is this a reality?”

“The most brilliant mind in the entire imperial territory, the main descendant of the Sachsen lineage, graces this ring with his mere presence!”

The proclamations of the announcers, increased in volume through magic contraptions, rumbled with overwhelming power. The butcher’s alias fell completely into oblivion; no one would pronounce it again.

“That insolent brat of the Saxon lineage…”

The butcher squeezed the pommel of the dark Sachsen sword with force, letting a tone loaded with resentment and hostility emerge.

“You, who contemplate the world from a position of privilege, what experience do you possess to dare to formulate such judgments against me?”

Facing such provocation, Dale merely sketched a cold grimace loaded with disdain.

“I possess, at least, the certainty that your steel will never graze the firmaments.”

Evoking the nature of a deity installed on high, a series of blades composed of pure shadow materialized in his periphery, beginning to orbit around him in the same way that celestial bodies would.

Simultaneously, Dale strengthened the position of his hand on his main weapon, Peacemaker.

The butcher initiated a fast offensive and Dale launched himself to meet him without hesitation. A combat lacking conventional aura on his part, against the onslaughts of a knight who employed the total of his physical and mystical vigor.

The metal of both swords collided with violence. Immediately after the initial impact, the set of the six shadowy blades that orbited around Dale were projected ballistically toward the front.

A true display of violence where death itself was reduced to a mere distraction for the masses.

In the midst of such a state of agitation, the relentless severity that characterized the Black Prince was exposed in all its magnitude, refusing to grant the slightest trace of mercy.