Chương 61: 60. Second Weapon Awakening

A constant degree of pain radiated from my knee. The invisible knee brace had returned most mobility, yet did little to address the pain. Marcus was first in the charge, sprinting to reach the left royal guard. Up till now, he had only been observing the rest of us fighting without personally taking part. Likely, the information he had been gathering had proved enough to give him confidence in taking them on. Meanwhile, Cathy and Eleonor focused their efforts on the right scorpion.

I had no idea what skills the goth used, but they seemed way more powerful than the cards she was carrying. Each thrust was like a bullet of force and aether, cracking the impenetrable shell of the insects as if it were common wood. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I threw Serp at the cracks of the scorpion's pincer. The blade hit its mark, as usual, then quickly started to grow. Instantly, the insect cut off its own pincer, preventing the blade from entering its body. Go for the belly!

I ordered as the pincer with Serp dropped to the floor. The blade shot out, using whatever organic matter there was in the pincer to extend towards the insect. Before it could reach its target, a spell circle emerged, causing it to stop. The Magician? I wondered. None of the scorpions had that card in their possession. As I watched, more circles emerged, blocking Cathy's arrows. Naturally, that wasn't enough to make her stop.

The woman doubled her shooting speed, bombarding her targets with dozens of fiery projectiles. More magic circles emerged. These were a new type—they didn't protect the creature itself, but formed a barrier that stopped anything from passing through. There was only one reason for this to occur—the queen had joined the fight. Shit! I cursed. If only I could speak, I could have told Cathy to shoot at the chamber entrance in order to confirm my suspicions. That wasn't possible.

I could turn around and wave, and still, the time it would take her to understand what I had in mind would prove longer than what we had. Already, hordes of lesser scorpions were probably making their way towards us. Pheromones filled the air, drawing everyone in the nest to this spot like an alarm. Still running, I unsummoned and summoned Serp. Targeting the gap between the large creatures, I threw the saber forward into the entrance.

Barely had it crossed the threshold when a few magic circles emerged, blocking its way forward. The scorpion queen had clearly deemed us a threat and sealed herself in the chamber. Unsummoning Serp again, I took out my divine blades. There was one thing I could do, although I would have preferred to save it for later. You really knew how to fuck with us, didn't you Harlequin? Even now, after all this time, I still underestimated the rule-masters.

Their cruelty and outright sadistic tendencies had tricked me into thinking they were stupid. The truth was that their power had afforded them to act that way, though only as long as they wanted. Here's my answer! I took out a gold ingot from the backpack in my inventory and sandwiched it between the divine blades. WEAPON AWAKENING You have started a weapons trial! The scorpions, the nest vanished. Once again, I found myself in the grand hall. Looking around, little seemed to have changed.

Just like before, golden tendrils emerged from the blades, drilling into my body. Thanks to the Observer card, I could see that they were in fact silver, covered in the golden light of divinities. What are you willing to sacrifice? The question formed before me.

"I sacrifice…" I began instinctively, then stopped. The reason for my pause wasn't that my lips were sealed, but rather that they weren't.

"… my newfound strength," I continued. The glow of the golden letters intensified, spreading along the silver rectangle.

"I sacrifice my victories," I added.

"I sacrifice my kills." The rectangle flashed out of existence, pleased with the price I was willing to give. In response, the tendrils burrowed even deeper into my hands, continuing up my arms and into my torso. Interestingly enough, my lung curse didn't come into effect. I tried to say something else, but my lips were sealed again. It seemed that the weapon trial didn't fully negate Harlequin's restrictions. Only the point at which I needed to interact with the weapons was exempt.

Once the tendrils stopped twisting within me, I looked around. One of the characters depicted on the floor would emerge and face me for the privilege of unlocking more powers. The curse cards were doing me no favors. The sealed lips alone prevented me from using the Bard and Emperor cards, not to mention I couldn't antagonize my opponent. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Slowly, a thin, black-haired man in a clerical robe rose from the floor.

Like someone emerging from a lake, he stepped firmly onto the solid surface with one foot, then pulled the rest of himself out. My second opponent was undoubtedly more seasoned than the first. Despite still lacking confidence, he had the eyes of someone who had seen battles and won many. The blades he was holding were slightly wider than my own, flickering with magic along the edges. He didn't have a helmet or any visible armor.

His boots were made of soft leather, and there was no indication of a breastplate beneath his robe. Pact holder, I thought. With Harlequin's Sight not functioning here, I had no way to tell whether that was the case. The outfit could well be linked to his cards, or be a matter of personal taste. No one knew for how long the Grand Arcana had been snatching people to take part in the games. All the participants I had seen were roughly part of the same ten-year period, even if coming from all over the world.

Still, nothing said that there hadn't been previous games. Seeing me, the man bowed, then took a defensive stance with one blade held in a parry position in front of his chest and the other held back, parallel to his left leg. Going with that style, are you? I wondered. He was cautious enough to let me make the first move and adapt to my actions. Thus, I felt it rude not to oblige. Thread strike! I slashed the air with my right blade.

Boosted by the Fourteen of Rings, the thread of destruction flew right at him, aiming to sever the man in half. A single parry and my attack snapped like a dry twig. The man knew how to fight. Wasting no time, I performed another thread strike, instantly following up with an arc attack. My opponent dashed forward. Switching between arms, he slashed through the aether treads one after the other. He crossed the distance and performed his first attack, swinging the blades at me from both sides.

The death gamble, I thought. I had seen others—both human and monster—fight in that style. The first time someone came across it, they would panic, reflexively retreating only to suffer both strikes. The only risk of such a reckless attack was coming across someone more determined who was willing to reciprocate. Should that happen, both participants would die. It had seen it happen often enough to merit the name it was called.

Sadly, the only constant was that the defender was always in a far worse situation than the attacker. I leaped back and threw one of my swords at his chest. The tendrils tore off the blade, releasing it to fly through the air. The tips of his weapons missed me by inches. Meanwhile, my blade struck the center of his robe. There was a loud clanging sound. It seemed that the man had a breastplate after all. No doubt it had been custom-made, sewn into the robe itself.

Without a moment's hesitation, I used my other blade to draw a spell circle on the floor. A wall of marble rose up in front of me, hiding me from view. Aware that this would only delay him, I ran along the side of the wall. In order to win the fight, I would need to claim my second blade. Barely had I started that I saw the cleric's silhouette emerge above the wall. Both blades swing down at me in an attempt to slice my head in three. Restrict! I thought as I parried both his weapons.

The boost in strength I had received from the gym and the arena had thankfully proved more than sufficient. Despite his experience, the strength of my opponent was no different from a level ten newbie. The man raised his blade again, yet didn't follow up with another attack. Apparently, the number of attacks he had mastered was also highly limited. That's what happens when you face a veteran, I thought, rushing round the wall. My second blade remained on the floor just where I remembered it to be.

Glancing over my shoulder, I rushed in its direction. The cleric spent a few more seconds doing nothing, possibly wondering what I had done to restrict his movements. By the looks of it, he had never come across the Gatekeeper card before, which was weird. It was part of the basic Arcana set. Choosing not to look a gift horse in the mouth, I slid along the floor. Even now, my leg slowed me down a lot more than I would have liked. Reaching out, I grabbed the second blade.

The tendrils in my arm reattached to the weapon, sending a jolt through my entire body. A faint smile appeared on the cleric's face. I could tell he knew he was outmatched, but was eager to keep on fighting, nonetheless. He didn't seem to have any cards to speak of, nor did he use any special items. Other than the swords themselves, there wasn't a strand of aether within him. The only unusual piece of equipment was the armor in his robe.

As for his attacks, they were pretty basic, acquired through countless battles. A natural fighter, I thought. I had come across many in my first year. Ignoring cards, they relied on their personal skills, believing it could make up for everything. Avon liked to say that they were too skilled for their own good. Too set in their ways and overly stubborn to resort to "cheating" by using cards, they did well during the initial trials until they hit the inevitable wall.

Flames covered my blades as I combined an arc attack with a thread strike. If we played by the rules, there was no doubt that I would lose. Without my ten years' experience, there was a chance that I could still come second to his skill, not now, though. While he slashed through the flaming aether threads of my attack, I had already performed a low horizontal slash an inch from the floor. Hidden by the flames of my previous strike, it reached him unimpeded, separating his feet from the rest of his body.

Moments ago, everyone would have said the cleric held the advantage. He was faster, more precise, and far more driven than I was, not to mention the only one standing. Now, both of us were on the floor, but only one was bleeding out. Sorry, I thought as I stood up. If only he had used his cards, things wouldn't have ended here. I could see why a minor deity would choose him as a follower; I also could imagine how he had died.

More than likely, he had charged into the fray, slaying scores of minor monsters until a more powerful boss had appeared. The subsequent fight might have lasted a matter of seconds or continued for hours, but in the end the monster's cards had proved greater than the cleric's skill.

"By your will," the man uttered, refusing to yell or cry despite the pain he was going through. You idiot, I tried to smile. You still stick to your ideals… I performed a power thrust, breaking through his hidden armor and shattering his entire rib cage as I pierced his heart. Your sacrifice has been accepted. DARK SILVER BLADES have awoken (Level 2). Fleshcutter: can slice through flesh and leather without resistance. Flesh? I was starting to see a theme here.

Apparently, the more my blades awakened, the more materials they could cut through. On its own, this improvement seemed barely better than the last. Blades were meant to cut through flesh, and liquids couldn't be seen as a particular challenge. Being able to do it without any sense of resistance—that was the real trick. A few more awakenings and I would likely be able to slice through wood, stone, and even metal as if they were air. At that point, the blades would become almost as terrifying as Serp.

It would have been nice to know who they belonged to, but that was for another time. Grasping the moment, I leaped off the floor, plunging in the direction I needed to be before the trial came to an end. Precisely a second later, the grand hall was gone. I was back in the scorpion nest buried within the desert reaches. The only difference was that I now found myself in the queen's chamber.