Is It Bad That the Main Character’s a Roleplayer?

Chapter 94: But There is Still Hope (3)

Kankan's words raised many questions.

However, it was rather difficult to forcefully keep someone here who didn't want to stay and elaborate. We eventually decided to just head to the Temple with many doubts in our minds.

The building, conspicuously white compared to the surrounding buildings, didn’t seem much different from other Temples, though its style was adapted to the desert.

“By the way, I also found some information on a tavern a lot of fighters stop by.”

After unpacking our luggage at the Temple, we headed to the tavern Deb had found out about. A selection based on our purpose of ‘finding talent’.

However, that didn't mean their food wasn't tasty.

“You chose well. Thanks for your hard work.”

“Just doing my job.”

As I scooped up some chopped cactus, I glanced around. Fitting the rumors of this place being well-frequented by fighters, all the people around us were fighters.

It seemed difficult to strike up a conversation with any of them.

“…Now that I’m seeing it in person, though, I feel like I made a mistake.”

Deb appeared to have realized it as well and lightly clicked his tongue.

“…?”

“What's the matter, Inquisitor?”

“No, well, it's nothing, really. It's just that, since we entered this city, I often see people who give off a slightly uncomfortable feeling.”

“…Is it Demonic Energy?”

“I don't think so… I'm not sure.”

Well, all things considered, that wasn't very important right now.

“Do you feel something from anyone here?”

“The one at that table over there, or the guy over there?”

“Are they well known?”

“…Aah, yeah. As far as impressions go, they’re both fairly well-known in the arena. They aren't as good as Red Mane, but they’re still in the mid to upper level in strength.”

“Hmmm.”

At Deb's words, the Archmage made a furtive expression. I felt similarly.

After all, it was none other than a priest who said they got an uncomfortable feeling from someone.

“There are no real obvious signs, so I can't be sure. If this is because something’s reacting to my Divine Power, it’s very unlikely the Temple would have left this issue be.”

“In that case…”

“There's nothing we can do right now, so let's set that issue aside for the time being. Instead, I'd like you to look into this issue. Will you be able to investigate this a bit further after our talk?”

However, since we couldn't do anything about this immediately, the Archmage tasked Deb with further investigations.

“Sure.”

After taking another look at the people the Inquisitor had just pointed out, Deb turned around again.

Immediately after, a waiter served us our meals that hadn't yet arrived.

“Rather than that, what about Kankan? Do any of you know why he gave us that advice?”

“Hmm, we shouldn't ever meet the Martial King, was it?”

The Archmage changed the topic.

Unlike us, who were pretty confused by his words, Deb seemed to have an inkling. He couldn't stand the heat any longer, so he removed his hood and gently rubbed over his bearded chin.

“Some malicious rumors about him were floating around, so I wanted to thoroughly verify them before bringing them up, but… Just going by what I heard, there seems to be some kind of problem with the Martial King.”

He hushed his voice as he spoke those words. No, he even had to write out the next part. It was pretty clear that he was highly aware of all these fighters around him.

[It's said that he's gone mad. He would go and attack everyone around him.]

“…!”

Thank God all of us could read.

The Inquisitor's eyes widened as she understood the words he’d written down, and the Archmage couldn't help but touch the back of his hand.

[Can someone who attacks those around him remain champion? Shouldn't he be dealt with?]

Although she lacked tact and didn't really know what to make of that situation, the Inquisitor took up the pen and wrote something. Her handwriting was so neat that it almost seemed to have been printed. It suited her personality.

[There’s never been anything official. There are only some rumors going around that a servant who had served him was found dead or that someone close to him suddenly showed up with injuries.]

[Is the cause for this known?]

[No. However, there are some speculations that it might be due to extreme stress.]

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Deb paused the pen he held for a moment in response to the Archmage's interjection. As he hesitated, a drop of ink fell on the table.

[This is a bit more unreliable than what I just wrote, but before the rumors of his madness spread, there had been some talk of him becoming a lot more sensitive than usual.]

[Why is it more unreliable?]

[He was someone with a short temper to begin with.]

Was it because it couldn't be proven whether he’d actually become more sensitive or was just acting on his short temper like usual? How bad was his personality for these kinds of things to spread?

Well, after giving myself this character setting, it wasn't anything I should comment on.

“All of this is unconfirmed, anyway.”

That was all the information Deb could give, so he put away the pen.

The Archmage, who had effectively influenced our decision on who to take as a new companion, had a rather anguished expression.

“In that case… we should reconsider. If it's just because he’s a sensitive person, this problem can be solved with proper adjustment, but if it’s like this…”

Hearing that, I felt a prick from my conscience for a second. Even though we were talking about the Martial King, why did I feel like he kept poking at my weaknesses?

“However, it's foolish to judge someone without having even seen them. Isn’t that right?”

“Indeed. You're right, Inquisitor. If one lets prejudice cloud their vision, one will miss what is truly important.”

Still, it was pretty touching to see the results of the Inquisitor's growth.

Seeing how much she’d grown since our first meeting was incredibly thrilling. Our kimchi dumpling was growing so well.

“I want to make a decision after meeting him face to face.”

It seemed the advice Kankan had given us in our first meeting had become entirely meaningless.

“Alright. What is your opinion on this?”

“You mean me? I mean… It doesn’t really matter to me. Even if the rumors are true, there’s no way this guy could hurt you, and if things go well and he joins our party, our power will increase, right?”

But, well, it didn’t matter in the end. If Kankan gave us that advice because he had gone mad, why wasn’t he forced to quit or something?

There could be reasons besides madness. As Deb had said, if he hadn’t gone mad, we could make him our companion, which would increase our party’s power.

And if his personality was too unsuitable for us, madness or not, we could still simply refuse to let him join.

Either way, we wouldn’t suffer any losses, except maybe the time and effort it took.

“What about you?”

“I don’t care.”

“Okay. Then let us postpone extending a recruitment offer to the Martial King until we’ve met him personally and come to a final decision.”

The Archmage also seemed pretty excited about meeting that guy in person. After our talk concluded, he summarized our decision.

With that, the first point on our agenda had been completed.

“Then our next step would be finding a way to meet the Martial King face to face.”

Our second agenda point was this: now that we had decided to ignore the advice not to meet with the Martial King, we had to find a way to meet him somehow.

“The fastest way would be to make an appointment or visit the Martial King’s residence…”

The Archmage, trailing off slightly, looked at Deb. He put down the piece of cactus he was sucking the juice out of.

“That would be difficult. The Martial King usually doesn’t agree to meet people. He is living almost in seclusion right now.”

“I see.”

“But you never know. Maybe we can meet him through some connections?”

The Archmage’s and Inquisitor’s expressions changed subtly at Deb’s words, which contained a hint of anger.

“This place doesn’t have a Magic Tower, so we can’t borrow their power, and as for the Temple…”

“…I can ask them, but I’m not sure it’ll work.”

This city might not be as chaotic as rumored, but given the many parts that went against the Temple’s doctrine, the Inquisitor warned us that it was highly unlikely the two were friendly with each other.

While I didn’t know much, that seemed quite plausible to me.

“That can’t be. There should be plenty of injured people coming from the arena to the Temple. Don’t they have some sort of connection with any of them?”

“That’s true, but… I’m not really sure. In the Great Temple, unless you donate a great sum, they don’t treat the wounded in such a manner.”

“Isn’t that called discrimination?”

“Rather than calling it discrimination, you’re just treated with a slightly lower priority. There are very few priests who can heal serious injuries… The people we treat first are those injured while fighting Demons or eliminating common sources of danger, like bandits and robbers.”

That was somewhat understandable. The difference between someone who got hurt while protecting another and someone who got hurt after fighting with another person for personal fame and wealth certainly seemed quite big.

“Huh, so this place really is different from other Temples.”

“…Certainly, as ashamed as I am to admit.”

“Well, if even the Temple doesn’t work, what should we do?”

“Now that I think of it, at that time…”

However, Deb’s attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere pierced our silence. It seemed no one—at least the other two—had considered a certain possibility.

That actually surprised me. Since this trope often appeared in games, novels, and manhwa, I naturally expected those guys to say, ‘We'll get to meet him if we fight in the arena!’

Kankan also mentioned that, right? That there would be no other way to meet him than in the arena.

“Should we go watch him fight?”

“…Asking him for a private meeting while in the audience would make him think we're just fans, so he'd probably ignore us.”

“Is that so?”

“And if we tried to win over those around him… it probably won’t leave a good impression. Oh well. If there isn’t any way, it would be better for us just to forget about this. There’s no need to insist on making the Martial King join us.”

But none of them mentioned it.

Well, challenging someone in the arena wasn’t exactly the standard way to meet a person.

“Instead, I think it would be a good idea to observe him first, like the Inquisitor said. If he isn’t impressive enough to meet our standards, meeting him would just be a waste of time.”

“Then, after we finish eating, we should get some tickets.”

“Ah, so are we going to Ainoxar next?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t seem to be a pleasant place, but… I’m still looking forward to seeing it in a different sense. I’m curious as to how that place is operated.”

I put down my spoon, worried my way of thinking had been influenced too much by fiction.

I’m the first to finish eating this time. Hurray.

* * *

* * *

Rustle.

The man’s hands trembled as he held the letter sent to him three months prior.

He’d read it through several times over, each time seeming to bring forth terror in him. ‘Why am I even reading this letter?’ The resolutions he’d made before reading it always seemed to become utterly useless afterward.

“Shit!!”

Crash!

In the end, he swept everything off the table. Various objects fell off it and spilled across the floor, crashing sounds echoing throughout the room.

Even then, he was still delicately holding that letter in his hand.

“…Why, why are you coming here?!”

When he left his hometown, he thought he’d never meet them again, but why? Just why?

After throwing the letter on the now empty table, the man tore at his hair with his free hand.

“I’m going to die. I’m really going to die this time.”

He wasn't in much better shape than the shattered objects on the floor.

“I'll be killed…”

Desperate and miserable.

> [So, are you just going to die like this?]

At that moment, a clear voice rang out in the space the man was sitting alone.

That unique tone of voice, resembling the plump sound of a camel-skin tambourine and the clear jangling of an oud, didn't seem like anything a person could produce.

“…! You!”

> [It's been a while, mortal. I came because I thought you might need my aid, or was I wrong?]

Startled, the man looked back at his visitor. His body, which had been trembling in fear of death not too long ago, was now shaking for an entirely different reason.

> [Hmm. They're coming here. I see. Is she your ‘nightmare’?]

Coming closer, the visitor read the letter and giggled.

“She isn’t my nightmare!”

Did the man lose his temper on instinct? Beneath the bearskin covering the visitor’s face, their half-visible eyes crinkled beautifully.

> [Then should I go?]

They stepped back lightly and lay down on the backless couch.

> [After all, if this isn’t what causes you nightmares, you won’t need my help.]

As a result, their clothes became quite disheveled, allowing a glimpse of their skin, but there was nothing seductive or sensual about it. It seemed more slovenly than anything.

> [So, should I take this as my visit being in vain?]

Just like the concept they represented.

“…No. Don’t go.”

> [Why? You said she isn’t your nightmare. So, doesn’t that mean you’re confident you can overcome her?]

“Damn it, there’s no way in hell!”

The man connected to such a being didn’t seem much different.

“I-If I train more, of course, I’m confident I’d win. But I never thought she would come here now. How can I win against her if I don’t even have enough time to prepare?”

> [I heard that it’s been ten years since you left your hometown… Well, fine. Things like that happen.]

The man extended his hand toward his visitor.

> [Then I shall grant you the dream of ‘Victory’ once more.]

The drug that would make all his dreams come true for free fell into his palm.

* * *

Right after we finished eating, we went to visit Ainoxar.

“Will you be participating?”

“No, we won’t.”

Maybe because they saw a strange person wearing full plate armor despite being in the middle of the desert and a cold-looking person wearing a Zweihänder on their back, we were mistaken for participants when we went to buy tickets. Although we barely managed to avoid actually participating, thanks to the Archmage and Deb.

“The tickets are quite pricey.”

“I didn’t expect them to be that expensive…”

As their goal was to hire talented people, the price of the requested tickets—in the form of tokens since paper was far too precious here—also increased. Most talented people were pretty popular, and the more popular they were, the more people wanted to see them fight, so this progression was only natural.

“There are people who brave the journey all the way to the front lines just to watch fights in this arena.”

Explaining that the arena’s earnings were used to maintain the front lines, Deb held some ice to his head. The Archmage had made it for him out of pity, given that he’d done nothing but pant ever since we came to the city.

It didn’t last that long and took quite a bit of Arcane Power to make, so it was a luxury he could only enjoy a few times outside, as the Archmage had prepared some pieces for emergencies.

“Oh, isn’t that the guy we saw earlier?”

“Oh, you’re right. That guy has a match scheduled today, as well.”

At that moment, the Inquisitor had found a certain someone’s match schedule: Red Mane. It was Kankan’s.

“His longest winning streak is 17… A win rate of 73%…”

The Inquisitor reviewed Kankan’s information and compared it to others’. Most fell incredibly short of Kankan’s record, but some still surpassed it.

“Amazing. He didn’t look weak, so I can’t believe there are so many people stronger than him.”

She exclaimed with admiration upon seeing the number of strong people presented.

“It’s not like that in other places, so why are there so many strong people in this arena?”

“Well… It’s because of this city’s, or rather the Southern Front’s, characteristics.”

The Archmage asked the Inquisitor to consider the map she’d seen earlier and what she’d learned about this place up until now, gradually introducing new knowledge to her.

I didn’t really have anything to do, so I quietly listened in on their conversation.

“As you might remember, the Southern Front is somewhat narrow due to the mountain range along the desert’s edge.”

“Yes, I remember that. The mountain range is so rugged, hot, and dry that not even Demons can easily cross it.”

“Correct. As such, the number of paths the Demons can take to cross the desert is very limited.”

One had to note that Demons were also living beings, so in most cases, they also needed to consume nutrients to survive. That’s why crossing through deserts or over rugged, rocky mountains wasn't easy for them.

“And one of those limited paths is where Pa Enoch is located.”

“Yes, I remember that, too. But what does this have to do with anything? Oh, do you mean these powerful people gathered here to stop the Demons?”

“If you just look at the conclusion, you’re right. However, that doesn’t entirely explain the existence of the arena.”

The Archmage smiled slightly and held up the ticket he’d just purchased. It was about to start, so they opted to continue their conversation as they went in.

“Although there are few paths the Demons could take to cross the desert, it’s also very rare for them to come to the desert to begin with. They only moved when the Great Demon residing in the desert ordered them to.”

The Inquisitor didn’t seem to understand what he meant. When the Archmage started walking again, she reflexively followed. Deb and I were also two steps behind them.

“However, that would happen quite sporadically. They would sometimes attack once every month, but at other times, they would only attack every seven years.”

At that moment, I slowly began to understand what the Archmage and Deb had meant before.

The enemies the Archmage spoke of would only attack every seven years. As Deb had said, this place was intended as bait to keep the powerful here.

“And at times like these, fighters would get bored and leave this place. However, while the Great Demon in the desert didn’t attack often, they still sometimes did, and with huge armies at that… So, they needed to maintain their fighting power somehow.”

In short, the arena was actually bait for them. A bait to attract and hold the interest of the strong in preparation for fights with Demons that could break out at any moment.

“That’s why the arena was created. It was made so the powerful could alleviate their boredom during the periods when the Demons didn’t come to attack.”

“Ah… so.”

“Yes. That is what I meant when I said the arena was built due to the city’s central role.”

“These things… I didn’t learn any of that. It’s quite interesting.”

“Knowing why the arena was created in Pa Enoch wouldn’t give us any advantage in dealing with Demons, so I didn’t tell you anything about it.”

Well, while these things were interesting to know, they weren’t exactly applicable in real life.

I suddenly remembered my school days. It seemed the time the Inquisitor spent studying things in the Temple wasn’t much different from when I went to school.

“The same goes for the pirates and this arena. After learning more, I felt that… I could understand everything a bit more… There are just some things in this world that can’t be helped.”

“…! Yes, that’s right, Inquisitor. There are quite a few cases where situations and people that appear evil and wrong actually have their reasons for being. Of course, we shouldn’t tolerate their actions just because of their circumstances, but…”

How had our kimchi dumpling gained yet another enlightenment from this, though? It was great, but she grew so much these days that I was a little shocked.

As I thought, that honest personality of hers wasn’t just her disposition but also due to her being completely new to society, leading to inflexible thinking…!

“…What’s happening with the iron wall?”

Meat dumpling, could you please hide that horrified expression of yours and just be a bit impressed about her growth?

“Ah, I guess these are our seats.”

Meanwhile, the Archmage found the seats matching the numbers written on the tickets. Although we were pretty late to get some, we were quite close to the stage.

I reckoned these matches were quite unpopular, seeing how there were more empty seats than ones filled with people.

“Who’s fighting this time?”

“I heard it’s a newly debuted newbie fighting against Red Tattoo Omar. I heard that their name’s Berserker…”

“Omar? I don’t really remember her, so she probably isn’t noteworthy.”

“I just chose the earliest match because I wanted to see what it would be like.”

Ah, so that was why.

“Ah, it seems like it’s starting.”

Maybe because we’d gotten tickets pretty late, it wasn’t long before the fight began.

“In this corner! The one who conquers with a single blade. Red Tattoo Omar!”

Contrary to my expectations that the fighters would be introduced at length, their introductions were actually quite short and simple.

“Opposing her! A rookie who just debuted, the former warrior of Norda. Berserker!”

As their names were announced, people leaped out of the holes on each side of the stage. One was a woman with a red tattoo, fitting her nickname, and the other…

“It’s Berserk, not Berserker! You idiots can’t even pronounce names correctly!”

It was a Sland with a large build, Berserk.

“That person!?”

“Why are they here?!”

Those were my lines.