Slave Game (1)

When Martial Star unleashed his full power, the earth trembled and shook under that martial might.

—From a bard’s song.

Silence pervaded the Rebound Legion’s mansion, which had spent the final night of the training period partying, unlike before.

Was it the tension of entering the fifth year?

No. It was because the sparring match between the representatives Proy and Kim Han—who had drunk, sung, and danced together only last night—was about to begin.

Proy had arrived at the mansion unexpectedly on Battlefield of the Gods year 4, December 30.

As soon as he met Kim Han, his glib request to stay a few days was met with ready consent, and on the 31st he even suggested an end-of-year party.

That was only yesterday.

The drinking and revelry had continued late into the night.

And today: Battlefield of the Gods year 5, January 1.

Unexpectedly, Proy had chosen the training ground behind the Rebound Legion mansion as the sparring venue.

No one knew what Medical Arts he had in mind when choosing the mansion. But since it was an important day, the wizards began their duties more cautiously than usual.

While every member of the magic tower household handled even food with care, the Rebound Legion members themselves had no time to attend to the wizards.

Not only the Rebound Legion staying at the mansion but also the representatives still alive participating in Battlefield of the Gods all received the same message at 9 a.m.

As year five began in Exorsus, the representatives heading to the plaza to enter the Garden of Gods all stopped in their tracks and stared blankly into the air.

They froze and looked up at the sky like programmed androids undergoing a temporary system check.

An oddity.

The sight was bizarre—like confronting the true form of a representative who would enjoy noble or higher status among the continentals.

The representatives returned to the mansion in all manner of states.

After clearing the message that had popped up during their meal, they finished breakfast and headed to the training ground.

Proy was already out and warming up.

Whether unaware of what would happen today or fully aware, Proy grinned broadly and waved when he spotted me.

Behind me, all the Rebound Legion members followed. Behind Proy, Makiira stood, bowed upon seeing me, and greeted me.

A pointless curiosity rose: how had two people who had once been so close become mortal enemies in a past life?

“Welcome.”

He greeted me as if it were his own home. I snorted and approached.

Proy was dressed clean and neat—awkward, like a soldier slipping into his uniform after a long time away.

The only thing unchanged was his tousled hair—his mane still spread in every direction like a lion’s.

“Ready?”

“Hm? Hahaha. More than enough, absolutely!”

“Any regrets?”

“Well, that’s hard to promise. Haha. I’ll try not to have any.”

“Alright. Let’s begin…!”

Before I finished, Proy’s fist shot forward in a surprise attack. I turned my head aside and blocked it gently with my palm; he smiled faintly.

“You started it, didn’t you?”

“Right. I’ll concede first strike.”

As I nodded, intensity flared from Proy’s whole body like rising flames, sending tendrils of force outward.

Rumble—

From spending time with Proy, I knew the stories from a past life: when Martial Star gave his all, the earth would cry out. Now I seemed to understand why.

His force was heavier and coarser than that of a representative using ordinary power. Because of its unique nature, when that heavy, coarse force erupted at full strength, the ground beneath Proy groaned and the air itself vibrated.

If his level rose further, it would only intensify.

“Good.”

Facing Proy’s figure and his strength, a satisfied exclamation escaped me without my knowing. I couldn’t define the feeling, but in this moment I felt good.

Makiira realized the man before him was completely different from the Proy who had sparred with him until now, feeling both self-reproach and pride.

A strange thought surfaced: perhaps Proy hadn’t needed his help at all, mixed with the pride that Proy’s development had come in part from their time together.

Proy’s momentum grew fiercer, and with a sliver of hope, Makiira turned his gaze to Kim Han.

The divine power and trembling air around Proy were so intense that Makiira felt them even from outside the training ground.

So what about Kim Han?

‘…Crazy.’

Kim Han smiled at the corner of his mouth and looked completely relaxed.

Above all, even seeing him with his own eyes, Makiira felt nothing from Kim Han. It was shocking to someone like Makiira, who prided himself on having senses superior to any representative.

To be so carefree while the opponent was amping up like that.

‘My friend… you should have gone all out from the start.’

As if hearing Makiira’s thought, Proy surged at Kim Han with everything he had.

The distance between Kim Han and Proy was barely five or six steps—practically point-blank for fighters of their caliber.

Proy closed the gap in a single bound and drove his knife-hand toward Kim Han’s heart. It was a sudden, all-out surprise attack, not the long gathering of energy he had seemed to be preparing.

Spot—

A sharp slicing sound cut the air. But the expected impact did not appear.

Spot— Pat— Spot— Pat—!

They moved so fast only afterimages remained. Makiira squinted; his eyes couldn’t follow them.

He had thought he’d improved by sparring with Proy, believing their gap wasn’t large—but now he realized he could not keep up at all.

From the glimpses he caught, Kim Han seemed to avoid leaving a particular area, as if he’d marked an invisible zone on the ground.

No—looking at the marks on the training ground’s floor, Kim Han didn’t seem to move; he was rooted on his left foot.

He used only his right foot to pivot or push his torso back, nullifying Proy’s attacks.

As if something invisible lay between them, Proy advanced while Kim Han retreated in perfect counterbalance, then drew closer as he stepped back.

“Huh…”

Spot— S—terong—!

The slicing sound finally changed. A reverberation like a giant bell rang out, and Proy staggered back as if drunk.

“The joke’s over.”

“…Tch.”

They called this a joke.

Makiira bit his lip without realizing it.

Of course things might differ if he unleashed his divine power, but were their movements—imperceptible unless one was intensely focused—really just a joke to them?

‘Our gap grew this much already? I can’t believe it!’

Kwahng— Rumble—

As if answering Makiira’s denial, the two generated a thunderous sound, confirming their earlier exchange had been only a prelude.

The clash released a roar unlike anything before. The air and the training ground shuddered, like clouds rolling before thunder.

When Proy delivered short, snapped punches and kicks as if striking something in the void, explosions erupted around Kim Han. Both the noise and the surge of divine power were extraordinary.

Proy attacked and Kim Han defended. Was Proy’s assault simply that tremendous?

“Ho? You’ve improved further in the meantime.”

From Kim Han’s calm remark even while defending, Makiira realized it wasn’t just Proy’s strength; he felt both relief and worry.

He worried that Kim Han’s development matched, if not surpassed, Proy’s—and he was relieved that Proy’s attacks didn’t land.

“Hahahahaha!”

At Kim Han’s nonchalant assessment, Proy laughed and made his movements more lively—truly enjoying himself, smiling with his whole face.

Every time Kim Han’s palm met Proy’s fist, a blast erupted that seemed intent on shattering eardrums; divine power tore the air apart, throwing gusts outward.

But that lasted only a moment—Proy, all offense and no defense, began to step backward.

Kwahng—! Kwak-kwak-thud!

With explosions louder than before and dust rising, a shadow lifted into the air.

A man flipped midair. Proy gathered descending force, channeling his signature heavy, coarse power into his hands, and fell toward Kim Han’s head.

Bang!

They exchanged blows.

Proy, who should have fallen like any struck bird, used Kim Han’s force as a rebound to soar even higher before descending, emitting force unlike anything before.

Around Proy, an enormous concentration of force rotated and vibrated, creating heat haze that warped the air.

As he fell, the surroundings shimmered as if oil smeared across glass.

Makiira imagined himself in that spot. It was gruesome.

At a glance it looked graceful and beautiful like a swallow’s flight, but the aura felt like a dragon opening its maw to strike.

Kim Han’s hand spread wide. The rising energy was black divine power.

Strangely, it felt neither like force nor mana.

The color was black, but it wasn’t the ominous, corrupt aura of the undead. Because it was black, it felt closer to the source.

At Kim Han’s gesture, black energy spread in the void like ink across a transparent pane; in an instant, above his head there seemed to be a high-quality black silk fluttering in the wind.

The black silk looked delicate enough to ripple—ink brocade.

Proy plunged toward that black silk like a meteor. At first glance it seemed he would achieve a crushing victory.

Kwak-kwak-thud— Rumble—

The explosive sound came first, followed by cries as the ground shook. What had happened?

“Ugh!”

Makiira hadn’t seen the sequence either, but he could see the result.

Proy was the one spitting blood onto the ground.

A monster.

Even though he had only defended, the fact that Kim Han had reduced Proy to such a state felt almost like cheating.

“Hoo, impressive.”

The admiration in Proy’s voice contained more respect and envy than mere praise—his voice trembled.

“You… really took a step forward. So you abandoned the extreme?”

Few present understood Kim Han’s words. None of the Rebound Legion members caught their meaning.

Only Hazel could hazard a guess at what he meant; the same went for Makiira.

“You… noticed? As expected, you’re remarkable.”

Was this for the bewildered onlookers, or just muttered to himself?

“Even in emptiness, having form creates perfect order. Tch. A martial art too precious to discard.”

“This is the second compliment I like in my life. It’s ironic that you gave me both the first and the second.”

“Well, good work.”

“If possible, would you show me your greatest technique?”

What were they saying to each other? What on earth were those two talking about?

Makiira calmed his ominously pounding heart and watched Kim Han with tense eyes.

At that moment Kim Han produced a long spear from the void. Was his primary weapon a spear?

“I’m borrowing this from someone, you see.”

The black divine power that had moments ago felt pure now felt ominous.

The spear, wrapped in an uneasy aura, opened its black maw and lunged toward Proy.