Chapter 4

News of the opening of the Babel Roulette was broadcast across all the continents three days before the event. The proclamation to kick it off would be held in front of the duel city’s symbol, Babel Tower, and two duelists would hold an exhibition match as the opening act.

It was understandable that one of the duelists graced with this honor was Elias Crossford. The name of his challenger, however, was unexpectedly Yuri Eniastar.

Three days was more than enough for this information to spread and garner great attention. One duelist’s name resounded far and wide as a skilled fighter who had persisted to the end of the last Roulette. Nonetheless, the peculiar nature of his challenger gathered interest in certain circles.

“Hey, I hear Beheading Elias’s opponent is a mix-blood.”

“Hah? What sort of matchup is that? He’ll have his head off in an instant.”

“Thing is, they say this mix-blood beat a Silver in his first match. He may be inexperienced, but maybe his skills are the real deal?”

“Oh come on, that has to have been a set-up. I read all about it on the city bulletin.”

“Right, right. Just think about it, there’s no way a weak mix-blood can win.”

“Let’s not forget, everyone Adamant and above is on another dimension than us plebs. I wouldn’t expect a good fight even if he was a pure blood.”

At the circular fighting ring in front of Babel Tower, the gathered spectators loudly disputed their predictions. The majority were critical of Yuri. The weakest mix-blood challenging an Adamant Rank. Any duelist worth their salt understood just how reckless this was.

Rank served as a definite display of a duelist’s strength. Among them, the higher ranks—Adamant and above—boasted extraordinary capabilities. They stood at the top, not only in win rate, but in technique and perseverance as well. After taking on many fierce warriors, passing through more hellscapes than anyone, they secured their victory.

That was precisely why no one seemed worried about the outcome of the match. The winner would be Elias Crossford, that much was a given. The spectators had come to watch for nothing more than morbid curiosity.

“Tsk...not a decent duelist among them.”

On an upper floor of Babel Tower, where only a select few were permitted entry, Velt gazed out the window at the arena plaza, irksomely clicking his tongue.

“Each and every one of them...makin’ a face like ooh, I’m so smart, I know exactly how this match will go down.”

His toxic tone elicited a sluggish response from the demon beside him.

“You’re an Administrator, Velt. You shouldn’t be saying such things.”

“Oh shut it. Wait, Mirka, why are you wearing a uniform of all things?”

“Why, I’m an employee of Babel Tower, don’tcha know? I’m technically here to provide hospitality for one ill-tempered Administrator.”

“Then get me a tea or something.”

“I’ll slaughter you, you smelly middle-aged man.”

“Where did all the hospitality go!?”

“The tea’s been brewed just fine. I’m offering you the freedom to pour it yourself,” Mirka said as she poured the gurgling liquid into her own cup. “But, well, I do feel the same way. We haven’t had any duelists with real backbone these past hundred years. You can’t imagine how boring it’s been.”

“You said it. Good grief, I thought that Elias bastard might be able to cross the line, but he stopped in his tracks ever since that incident with Reilly.”

“I see. So that’s why you sent Yuri at him,” Mirka said, before narrowing her eyes. “But...will Yuri really be able to cross it? Even if he is a candidate chosen by an Administrator, a mix-blood’s shackles are a heavy weight to drag along.”

“What, you think the brat’s gonna lose?”

“Going off statistics alone, the odds would have to be in Elias’s favor. You could look into past records all you want, but at the moment, no mix-blood has ever defeated an Adamant Rank duelist.”

Among the mix-bloods Mirka had seen so far, Reilly Malbork was an aberration that the rest could never hope to reach. Even so, she had never achieved victory against any duelist Adamant or higher. She only ever won against Elias when they were both young and inexperienced. But Elias had grown even stronger these past few years. It was rather self-evident to think it impossible to win against such an opponent.

However—those who had crossed the line saw it differently.

“But...I’m pretty sure Yuri will win.”

“Aah!? So which is it!?”

“Taking only ability into account, Elias will win. However, precisely because Yuri was born a mix-blood, his thought process and experience are different from the other duelists.”

History proved that effort and spirit were not enough to bridge the gap. But it was possible for battles to exceed expectations. A miracle no one could expect. Those at the top understood them as not a coincidence but something one had to grasp for oneself.

“Now, as for how he’s going to seize victory...that’s the interesting part.” Her red eyes turned to the world below, Mirka joyously swirled the tea in her cup. “How about you, Velt? Why do you think Yuri is going to win?”

“I got a gut feeling!!”

“You really are an idiot.”

“That’s the best part about me! No need for all those unnecessary thoughts in battle!!”

“Battle aside, you do have an obligation as an Administrator to select promising people, so we would all very much appreciate if you learned how to explain your reasoning...” Seeing him laugh without a care in the world, Mirka let out a tired sigh, “But I can see where you’re coming from. You and Yuri are pretty similar in that regard.”

“The brat and me? We’re completely different. He’s a natural-born duelist.”

“...What do you mean?”

As Mirka tilted her head, Velt planted an elbow down on the windowsill. “You know a bit about the Eniastar House, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. They were the first people to ever research mix-bloods, and they accomplished great deeds to ensure mix-bloods were welcomed into Human Tribe society.”

The Eniastars’ achievements could never be understated. They researched how a mix-blood could use their powers, and how these powers could then be put to use in everyday life. Apart from that, they also consulted for and mediated marriage between tribes.

Thanks to their continuous efforts, while it was still well-known that mix-bloods were at a disadvantage in a duel, they were generally regarded as having beneficial abilities and commanded the same rights and respect as everyone else.

Mirka continued, “While their initial plan of creating the strongest duelist failed, they continued preserving their mix-blood and contributing to the world. I see them as a splendid lineage.”

“But they’re maniacs who, in their goal to be the strongest, couldn’t keep it to themselves, dragging all the other tribes into the mix. You think they’re the sort of people who’d suddenly stop trying and start working for the good of the world just because it failed once?”

“But it was a failure, wasn’t it? You can’t really get around that fact.”

“Right. And that’s why—they keep up their research to this very day.”

A duelist who carried multiple Tribe Skills, worthy of the title of strongest. The actual result was a mix-blood, the weakest duelist, and yet...their goal would continue for over a thousand years, never once twisting off its tracks.

“Mirka, do you know who the brat’s mother was?”

“Umm... If the documents are to be trusted, she was a lovely elven woman.”

“I asked her personally. She’s more precisely a dark elf.”

“Dark elf... Aren’t they a belligerent breed with high combat capabilities who can manipulate shadows?”

“That’s right. An aggressive bunch hostile not only toward the other tribes, but even their brethren.”

If it was just his mother, it could be a coincidence. However—coincidence was broken through repetition.

“It’s not just his mother. His Beast Tribe blood harkens back to the vicious minotaur Asterios, and his Spirit Tribe blood comes from the moon spirits who control the mysterious sixth element. The rest of his blood, all of it, comes from subspecies who excel in combat.”

From the moment they set their sights on the top, the Eniastar House never let the mix-blood flame die out. If that wasn’t enough—they continued to mingle with certain exceptional races. Beast, dragon, dwarf, elf, angel, demon, spirit...Yuri had strongly inherited the blood of only those overflowing with fighting spirit and boasting the highest combat capabilities.

In order to prove that their idea of creating a mix-blood was no mistake, the Eniastar House had preserved their lineage for several thousand years, each generation carving in new fighting spirit so the dream would never die. That was what the boy known as Yuri Eniastar had inherited.

“The reason the brat longs to fight isn’t just his innate disposition. The blood flowing through his veins is crying out. That’s why...I, the Human Tribe Administrator, had to select him.”

No sooner had Velt finished his sentence than an ear-rending cry erupted from below. The challenger had appeared...

Yuri walked toward the center of the ring. Not a sliver of tension or fear could be seen on his face. His expression glimmered as his thoughts bounded toward the battle to come.

“Right now, I’m sure his blood is on fire.” Velt chuckled.

◇

A great clamor rose from the fighting ring in front of Babel Tower. It happened as the crowd noticed a certain Elias Crossford leisurely walking toward it. But Elias made no attempts to answer the cheers. He proceed to the center looking all too disappointed.

Noticing him, Yuri energetically waved his hand and jogged up. “So you’ve come, Mr. Elias! I’m counting on you today!”

Seeing Yuri respectfully bow his head, Elias narrowed his eyes. “...I should say you did well to not run away, but personally, I would have preferred if you ran and left the duel city behind.”

“In that case, I’ll say it instead! You did well to not run away!”

Yuri riled him up with a wide smile, sending waves of unrest across the spectators. Their confusion only swelled as both parties took out their Proofs, held them up—and touched them together.

This was the procedure for a contractual duel. To lock Proofs and vow to fight to the last breath.

“Hey...hey, hey, hey! That rookie wants to fight a contractual duel with Elias!”

“Adamant and Iron, for god’s sakes! He’s got no chance!”

“The terms of the contract are...‘Yuri Eniastar is henceforth forbidden from setting foot in the duel city’...meaning no matter what his rate is, if he loses, the rookie resigns as a duelist!”

“He can’t be sane! Why did he accept such an idiotic contract!?”

The words raced like lightning from the mouths of those watching, making their rounds until they had formed a deafening ruckus. Even in the midst of this, the two fighters quietly glared at one another.

“It’s getting pretty noisy.”

“I’ve never been one to pay attention to my surroundings. More importantly, there is one thing I need to know.” Elias asked through a slight frown, “Why...did you accept this duel?”

Yuri had every right to refuse not only the contract but the duel itself. Admittedly, refusing the duel might shame him as a coward—or at least, that was the norm nowadays—but no one would blame him for refusing the contract. A loss would mean losing something precious. To run to protect what is dear was nothing to be ashamed of.

Despite that, Yuri accepted Elias’s contract. His reason for doing so was spelled out with the most joyous of faces.

“Why, because you piss me off.”

“...What?”

“I mean, you always talk about mix-blood this, and mix-blood that, and how it’s because my master was a mix-blood or something or another... While you supposedly respect the mix-blooded duelist Reilly, you look down on and despise mix-bloods more than anyone else.” Yuri continued with his same amicable smile, “You say you respect Reilly Malbork, but the truth is you despise mix-bloods. Not only do you try to resolve this discrepancy with selfish, self-serving sophistry, you say some nonsense about it being for my sake and try to steal my future away from me—I just thought I didn’t want to lose to someone so mistaken and misguided.”

Elias’s expression warped. “You’ll wish you never said that, whelp.” His canines bared, Elias’s sharp glare emanated alongside a murderous aura. “I thought I would kill you in one blow to spare you the pain, but...I’ve changed my mind.”

Elias grasped the hilt of his sword as he took his stance as a duelist.

“I’ll torture you to death—slowly and painfully.”

A bizarre malice exuded from every pore on his body. An intensity great enough to bend any foe to his will. Taking in all these new sensations, Yuri’s eyes widened and sparkled.

“Wonderful, so this is the real Mr. Elias!!”

A formidable foe before him, he quickly and energetically drew his black sword. He showed no fear or apprehensions.

“Then let’s both fight to our fullest!”

His confident proclamation opened the curtain on the match as both sides lifted their Proofs.

Yuri took a strong step in even before his surroundings were completely sepia. A swift surprise attack making full use of his small build. Straightforward, an upfront thrust that could be taken as foolish.

“Fool. You think you can take the Beast Tribe head-on with a Human Tribe’s physical capabilities—”

Elias shifted his large curved sword in accordance with Yuri’s movements. He simply had to hold it out to catch the blade, his stance ready to snap it right out of the boy’s hands with the next motion. Or so it should have been.

“—I thought you’d start with a block!!”

The moment Yuri slipped into his midst and forcefully thrust his black sword—Elias’s curved blade was shot backward. The black sword, turned off its original trajectory, carved a shallow gash into Elias’s side.

The cut was inconsequential, but there was something else that brought shock to Elias’s face. Even if it was only for an instant, a beastman’s physical might lost to a human.

“Now what was that...about a Human Tribe’s physical capabilities?”

The moment he saw Yuri’s smile right below his head, Elias half-instinctively shot out a knee.

“Don’t let...it get to your head!!”

Elias’s knee caught Yuri in the pit of his stomach, blowing his petite body a considerable ways back. Yet, once again, Elias furrowed his brow. The sensation was off. It felt more like kicking steel than it did bone.

Unable to leave this off-feeling be, he carefully inspected Yuri. “Some sort of protector...no. I definitely felt the texture of skin.”

Yuri gave him no answers. There was no visible armor on his torso, and the lack of any contour over his slender chest made the possibility of plating under his clothing exceptionally low. Elias weighed this sensation against his past experiences, in an attempt to identify it.

“...I see. The Dragon Tribe’s steel bones.”

Given his wealth of experience, the conclusion was simple enough to reach. With a basis in that theory, he began systematically inferring the other abilities Yuri had exhibited.

“Then...that power and speed must be the skill of the Beast Tribe.”

Normally, he should be shocked just seeing a mix-blood actually using a Tribe Skill. However, Elias showed no unrest. He would not make such a blunder in the midst of battle. By comparing his opponent to his own experiences, he calmly discerned their weakness.

“You have my admiration, to be able to use the skill of another tribe with your body...but, from what I can see, you’re not using it through proper means.”

Once again, Yuri offered no response. However—orbs of sweat oozed from his forehead. Elias could tell that Yuri didn’t have much difficulty pushing him back, but he could hear the intense, hastened beat of the boy’s heart go off like an alarm bell. The human body was crying out due to movements beyond human capacity.

Athena’s training allowed Yuri to use the Tribe Skill without first damaging his own body. However...that didn’t erase the damage done by the skill itself.

His overexerted bones and muscles jarred and creaked; blood raced around his body at such high temperatures it felt as though it would burst out of him. If he lost focus for only a moment, he could see his body falling apart.

Even so, Yuri’s smile thrived.

“Well no matter what happens...I can’t quite lose to you.” It was a power a Human Tribe body could not endure, but that was not enough to sway the human known as Yuri Eniastar. That was not enough to sway the Iron-blood spirit passed down by his master. “So rather than me...how about you worry about yourself!?”

He moved his screaming body, the ground below him crumbling underneath his powerful steps. The Beast Tribe’s physical abilities: arms and legs greater than any of the other tribes. Once again, he slipped into Elias’s midst, his sword flying diagonally upward.

“—What idiocy.”

With those cold words, the black blade was this time properly caught by the edge of Elias’s sword. The next instant, a blinding silver unraveled right before Yuri’s eyes.

“Even if you can use Tribe Skills, yours are no more than a sham. Surely you realize they are clearly inferior to the true Tribe Skills we possess...and your power could never hope to surpass us.”

Nine silver tails spread far and wide from his back. Crimson eyes embodied his rage.

“—Release.”

Immediately after a quiet murmur—Yuri took a blunt-force blow to the flank. This wasn’t a swipe from the sword...it was executed with the massive sheath that had been on Elias’s back. Without any chance to react, Yuri took the full force of the blow, forcing his body into an L-shape.

“......!!”

Enduring the dull pain, he used the momentum of the strike to leap back, correcting his posture before he hit the ground. Thanks to a perk of the Dragon Tribe, every bone in his body was covered in a sturdy, bony tissue. As the name literally implied, steel bones gave his bones the hardness of steel, making it so no slash could slice all the way through. This made it impossible to sever him in one swipe.

For this reason, Elias chose not a slash but a battering with his scabbard to inflict internal damage to the organs beyond the bones.

“...You really are strong, Mr. Elias...!!” Yuri said, as he analyzed the damage inflicted on him. He quietly took in a deep breath to get his respiratory system back in the right rhythm.

The wariness in Elias’s eyes grew thick. “...The fact that the damage was lighter than I anticipated means you’re still hiding something.”

“Who can say... Care to find out?”

His movements no different from before, Yuri closed the distance between them. For a fighter on Elias’s level, if he knew slashes wouldn’t work, he would immediately have a backup plan. Fully expecting this, Yuri prepared his own follow-up.

The moon spirit magic he had created in his training with Fram—Lunar Cycle. It was a magic that gradually restored his injuries to their previous state, and as long as he didn’t suffer a lethal blow, Yuri could slowly but surely restore himself without a burden on his psyche.

“Even if they each fall short individually...put them all together, and you have something strong.”

With the Release Skill of the Beast Tribe, he could weave blows that exceeded his capabilities in with his normal attacks. With the steel bones of the Dragon Tribe, he could restrict his foe’s slashes and greatly cut down the damage received. And with his damage kept to a minimum, injuries would be automatically healed, allowing Yuri to stand as many times as needed.

“I’m not going to fall—until I defeat you.”

In exchange, a sharp pain jolted through his entirety, but Yuri would never fold to it. His fighting spirit kept his body in motion.

But...as Elias looked at him, the emotion that seeped into his expression was disappointment. Nothing more, nothing less.

“You seem to be misunderstanding something.” His words were ever so calm and quiet.

Elias was right in front of Yuri the same moment the waves of his voice reached him. Yuri could hardly be expected to react on sight. He didn’t even feel a hint of him preparing to move, his legs so fast they left everything back in the dust.

“I told you I would torment you to death.”

The tip of the scabbard stabbed into his solar plexus, and forcefully smacked Yuri into the ground.

“Kaah...!?”

He spat up the contents of his lungs as he tried to roll to avoid the next blow. However, with the scabbard pinning him down, he was unable to move an inch. If that wasn’t bad enough, Yuri began to pick up the changes happening in his body. His heart pulsed like crazy, and his freedom left him as if he had been paralyzed.

“I once fought a duelist who could restore any injury taken. It looks like this will work on you too.”

The impact sent his heart into a frenzy, rendering him unable to move. Yuri had once used a similar method to deliver an impact to Haring’s heart and forcefully bring it to a stop. In contrast, Elias used a shock to reliably seal his movement and abilities.

Yuri never revealed what exactly he was working with. He was using skills unknown to Elias, multiple ones at that, and yet, by comparing past experiences, Elias could discern the proper ways to counter.

“Perhaps you have multiple abilities to use, but if I look at each of them individually, they are merely degraded versions of abilities I’ve seen before. In which case...I should simply crush them one at a time.”

As if to enact precisely what he had stated, Elias planted a firm stomp into Yuri’s chest. The pressure on his lungs prevented him from even breathing satisfactorily.

“To struggle as a mix-blood with such paltry powers...how conceited can you get?”

Elias’s words resembled a curse. He next lowered the sole of his boot at Yuri’s face. The dull sound of the impact resonated with the sharp snap of the bones in his nose.

“If that’s all you needed, she would have surmounted it. She was far more worthy than you.”

His heel slammed into Yuri’s face again and again, treading over his will. He recalled the despair from when he watched that figure leaving the duel city, slamming in all his regrets.

“A wall she could never cross—then you never stood a chance.”

As his field of vision turned red with blood, Yuri watched Elias’s bitterly twisted face. Grief, respect, regret, remembrance, longing, guilt—an expression of various emotions at war.

Though Yuri had stopped moving, Elias’s foot had not. He stomped on Yuri’s palms, shattered his kneecaps with his heel, crushed his abdomen, slammed down on his throat, and kicked his head. Again and again. Over and over. The sound of flesh smacking and bones shattering resounded through the plaza. Such gruesomeness had the spectators at a loss for words.

Normally, the act of needlessly tormenting an opponent in a duel was looked down upon, but the spectators couldn’t even raise any cries of criticism. Overwhelmed by the ghastly look that crossed Elias’s face—not a single one spoke.

And...his shoulders rising and falling with each breath, Elias finally pulled his foot back.

“It’s the end of the line...Yuri Eniastar.”

Through his hazy eyes, Yuri looked at the object above his head. The white blade of a sword glimmering as it caught the light of the sun.

“You were unable to surpass the walls of a mix-blood.”

His voice waxed over with pity, Elias stabbed the blade at Yuri’s heart.

◇

Yuri silently drifted through the endless darkness. Neither his consciousness nor his senses seemed distinct enough to be real. And, bit by bit—a familiar scene surfaced.

“—How about we have a duel, Yuri?” Reilly’s familiar voice echoed in his ears. “We’ve held plenty of mock battles, but this will be your first real duel, won’t it?”

It was finally the day Yuri greeted the Human Tribe’s age of adulthood. For someone to become a duelist, they would first have to reach their designated age of maturity.

Indeed, Yuri could now set forth on the path of his dreams—if only Reilly hadn’t added on an additional condition.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t just send you off to the duel city. Now that Velt’s entrusted you to me, I need to do one last test of your capabilities,” she said as she thrust her beloved black sword out at him. “If you want to go to the duel city so badly, you’ll have to defeat me first.”

Their conversation happened that morning, but now the sun was already beginning its dip beyond the horizon, casting the madder sky in ultramarine.

“...You really don’t know when to give up, Yuri!” Reilly’s impatient voice rose through the sounds of clashing blades.

“Then I got that from you, Master...!” Yuri choked out as his wounds accumulated. His left elbow was bent the wrong direction; his left leg was a bluish purple from a blunt strike. The puncture wound in his abdomen wouldn’t stop bleeding.

Even in such a state, Yuri wouldn’t let the battle end.

“And if I beat you...I get to go to the duel city!! How could I possibly lose!?”

A step in the direction of his dreams. He couldn’t let himself be held back here.

“But...it’s still too soon for you. If you go the way you are, you won’t win against the others. You understand that, don’t you?”

Her persuasive words were overlaid with an even more persuasive kick to the face. But still, Yuri did not go down. He fought tooth and nail against his fading consciousness, concentrating all his might on bracing his feet and keeping them on the earth.

“I don’t want to understand that...!”

He immediately swung his sword at her eyes, but Reilly simply took a step back, and the tip fruitlessly flourished through thin air.

If it was any consolation, the distance of his blade to her was much shorter than the last time he attempted this. The fight simply drew on and on, and Yuri stood no matter what damage he took, forcing Reilly close to the limit of her own stamina as well.

“No one knows who’s gonna win, and who’s gonna lose!”

He stepped in after her, unleashing the strongest thrust he could muster. His resolute display was immediately followed by a shrill clang. A sword was sent flying high into the air.

Reilly leaned down to match his eye level. “But that—makes it your loss.”

In the midst of her proclamation, her sword pierced through Yuri’s heart. The cold sensation of metal was gradually erased by the gush of his blood.

Reilly’s soft words reached his ear. “The stronger one wins, that’s how battle works.”

And...

He forcefully chomped into her unguarded windpipe.

“.........Hah?” A short exclamation before a dark-red liquid overflowed from her mouth.

“If the stronger one wins—you would have never won at all, Master.”

His face was splattered red with Reilly’s blood as he spat out the chunk of flesh he had torn away.

The faded world reverted the moment Reilly’s body slowly hit the ground. Now that the duel was over, Yuri was soon to join her.

“Dear God...winning your first duel by biting out my throat... You’re not a dog, you know...”

“Ahahah! I’ll do anything to win!”

Led along by Yuri’s jolly laugh, Reilly gave a wry smile of her own.

“But hey, that’s why I took you as my apprentice.” She reached out her hand, gently stroking his head. “We mix-bloods are the weakest. We must always fight foes far superior to ourselves. That’s precisely why you must never give up on victory. That feeling is the one thing that can never lose to anyone else.”

Reilly had forged on with that will as a mix-blooded duelist. Starving for victory more than anyone, she had stolen a win from a great many combatants.

“You must never forget that feeling.”

With a soft chuckle, she wrapped Yuri’s fingers around the hilt of her black sword. The sword embedded with her hopes and dreams. Yuri firmly clenched it to carry them on.

“So, Yuri, how did it feel to beat someone stronger than you?” Reilly asked, as one who had stood before him as the barrier going by the name of ‘master.’

“It was...really fun!!” Yuri once again confirmed there was no greater joy in life.

◇

The plaza was silent.

Elias’s sword had pierced Yuri’s heart, and everyone waited for the moment the duel would end.

The emotion this scene brought to the spectators was relief. Such ghastly deeds had met their end; the match was settled with a decisive blow to the heart. Elias himself knew that one blow was the last.

“...That’s right.” The clipped words escaped from Yuri’s throat. “I’m going to lose...? Why do you get to decide that?”

A fearsome volume of blood pouring from his chest, Yuri grabbed Elias’s sword edge with his right hand and lifted himself up. His defeat was already certain, and yet his will to fight had not crumbled.

“Your spirit is commendable, but...it’s over.”

Even if he could stand, there was little he could do to stave off death with a pierced heart. Soon the Field would dispel and the world would regain its color.

It was only then that Elias realized something was off. Sure, it took a little time to die from a pierced heart, but even so, this was far too long.

“I can’t miss like this,” Yuri said with another step forward. He pressed his body down the length of the blade stuck through his chest. “If you can’t stand someone, give them a good whack!!”

His fist viciously jut out into Elias’s body.

“......Kah!?”

Spitting up blood, Elias crashed into the ground, unable to make any attempts to recover his footing. Though his brain was jolted by the impact, he frantically kicked it into gear to search out an answer. Nothing came up.

There was no possible way Yuri in his current state could fire off an attack great enough to force a beastman under Release to yield.

“Aah...that was refreshing.” Yuri smiled and stood, watching Elias writhe on the ground. “A mix-blood’s the weakest? The battle’s over before it began? ...To hell with that, why does everyone else get to decide that?”

Unsteady as he was, Yuri never fell to his knees.

“The only one who can decide my battles—that’s me.”

He stood calm and composed, as if to embody those very words. The entirety of his existence was on display, proving they were no fabrications. And, with all to see, Elias finally understood the mechanism that allowed Yuri to exhibit power greater than his caliber.

“You...used your own body...as an Armament...!?”

The Human Tribe Skill Armament allowed a weapon to take the burden of the body, granting its users the abilities stored in the gemstones embedded in them. But perhaps the opposite was possible as well. By taking the brunt of the load directly, using his body as an Armament, he had amplified the effect of the Tribe Skills he was born with.

An ability without a name. If he had to call it something, perhaps Tribal Armament. A power granted only to mix-bloods.

“But if it cost you an arm...you should have used it to take me out.”

That previous punch was a telling blow; it had inflicted terribly severe damage. But it wasn’t nearly enough to bring Elias down. His will wasn’t fragile enough to crumble from one hit.

“You were close...whelp.”

Yuri was already at his limit. Not only had he sacrificed his left arm, he had been perpetually using his passive healing magic to close his wounds while the blade was in his heart. He didn’t have the strength left to fight. It would be over the moment his healing didn’t make it in time. If his head left his body, he would undoubtedly die.

“You won’t get another shot!”

With those words, Elias kicked at the ground with a dash of ungodly speed the eye could never hope to follow. Yuri wouldn’t be able to avoid it. The horrid remains of his left arm wouldn’t be able to block.

Knowing that, Elias took a confident swipe from the left—his sword came to a complete stop with a shrill, metallic pang.

“—If once doesn’t work, I’ll hit you as many times as it takes.”

Elias’s thoughts ceased upon witnessing something as absurd as his slash being blocked by the sturdy, pure-white exposed bone jutting out from Yuri’s elbow.

“Release Armament.” With a quiet murmur, Yuri gathered strength in his nonexistent left hand. His arm slid the length of the blade as he lurched down like a spring storing power.

“Hardened Hoof!!”

Yuri swung his left arm with an ear-rending scream. The sharp, exposed bone stabbed into Elias’s flank. A piercing blow that tore through flesh, the momentum of it sent Elias’s body flying in the air with a trail of red.

Inconceivable. This was the only word to cross Elias’s mind.

Yuri’s body was already at its limit. But even in his current state, he had used his left hand again.

“Hahah... Looks like I really can’t use my arm after the second shot.” Yuri laughed dryly as he gazed at his now-absent shoulder.

This was madness. Using an injured arm to fire an all-or-nothing attack would bring unimaginable pain. This much was self-evident, and yet Yuri didn’t hesitate. He completely disregarded the damage received, making aberrant choices simply because it seemed effective at the time.

“You’re...you’re mental...!!”

“What are you talking about? Crazy or not, the one who wins is right. That’s the law here.”

Missing an arm, swaying like a vengeful ghost, Yuri kept on going. Without pause, he faced his foe to seize his victory.

“Our battle...isn’t over yet.” His smile never fading, he readily threw himself back into the fight. “Just try and kill me, Elias Crossford.”

Elias’s body froze over the moment he heard those words. He remembered this sensation. Long ago, when he fought Reilly for the first time, Elias experienced true fear for the first time in his life. Faced with her iron will that would never fold to anything he could muster.

“......Hah.”

And, the moment he realized this, he couldn’t help but chuckle. Blood streamed down the edge of his mouth as he faced the lunatic before his eyes.

“Then how about you try and kill me, Yuri Eniastar!” Elias shouted, snapping himself out of his daze. He readied his curved sword and closed the distance. His ungodly slash flew to sever Yuri’s neck.

Yuri didn’t fall.

“Ga...aaaaaaaaaaah!!” With a beastly roar, he forcefully parried the blade with the black sword strangled in his right hand.

Elias immediately reacted. He let his sword, sealed by the black blade, leave his hand, allowing him to slip through Yuri’s guard and deliver a powerful kick to his torso.

An impact elevated to its very limit through Release. It had unmistakably captured its mark, shattering the steel bones protecting the boy’s body.

Yuri didn’t fall.

“It’s...not over yet!”

After a bit of self-encouragement, Yuri clenched his right hand around the black sword that one might call the proof of a mix-blood. The sword passed down by his master. The sword that had never left his hand in this fight.

Planting a powerful foot into the ground, Yuri looked straight ahead. All his master taught him, and all he believed in. As if to smash it all into his foe, Yuri thrust the sword, honest and straightforward to an idiotic degree.

“Hardened Hoof!” A thrust with everything on the line. A strike to pierce through the wall that stood before him.

The impact from the attack caused a dust cloud to scatter far and wide. The air shook, fearfully cowering behind the dust to guard its sight from whatever bleak reality lay beyond it.

The crowd watched with a unanimous gulp. Not a single soul would taint it with words as they anxiously waited with tightly clenched fists. What was the result—and what would come after that?

A long time passed. The dust cloud was in no hurry to clear, but eventually, two shadows could be made out standing at the center. The figures were still, one slumped down, the other standing tall. Finally, the dust settled.

On one side was Yuri, both his legs pulverized, now his right arm gone as well. And on the other side stood Elias, a large hole opened clean through his chest.

“...Hah... To think you’re still alive in that state... You’re a real monster, you know that?” Elias felt his pulse weaken as he looked down at Yuri, now no more than a torso.

After essentially being torn to pieces, Yuri Eniastar was still moving. He glared at Elias, shifting his head in an attempt to rock himself closer. It was as if his body wouldn’t stop advancing until the fight was over.

“You resemble your master in the strangest ways...but the way you fight is the complete opposite.” Elias closed his eyes to clear away the shadow of an old friend he saw over the boy.

For a brief instant, the power of his Hardened Hoof let him surpass Elias physically. By using that power on his legs, he had exceeded Elias’s speed, and by using his sword this time instead of his fist, he had eliminated the option of blocking with a blade or scabbard.

It was a desperate blow with everything on the line. Had he missed, Yuri wouldn’t be left with the means to fight. It was quite literally an all-or-nothing gamble. And that was precisely...what allowed Yuri to break the wall. He continued pressing forward without ever folding.

“It’s your win, Yuri Eniastar.”

And by the time he spoke the last syllable, Elias’s pulse had stopped entirely.

A prismatic brush colored the sepia world. Now that a victor was decided, their two injured bodies reverted back to how they were before the battle began.

Elias remained on his knees, unmoving, in the center of the ring. And...while he was breathing heavily, Yuri’s two feet were back on the ground.

“...It reached...”

Yuri stared at the sky above, reaching his hand out at the all-encompassing blue. Only the sensation of victory remained in his hazy consciousness.

“I...I won...”

This was the spectacle that awaited a duelist who fought with his all to the very end. The scenery that awaited the duelist he had envisioned himself out to be. Eyes narrowed at the blinding sight, Yuri burst into a cheerful smile.

“That means...I wasn’t wrong!”

At his last word, Yuri collapsed onto the ground.

◇

The duel was over, yet the spectators maintained their silence. No one found the right words to say. A mix-blood duelist had defeated an Adamant rank. This much was clear, but how exactly were they supposed to react?

One duelist had surpassed his limits. That moment when he showed them a world they could have never anticipated still sent shivers down their spines.

“Yuri...won...”

Athena’s befuddled voice was followed by a torrent of tears.

“Yuri won!! He won, did you see, Fram!? He won!”

She needed to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She embraced Fram beside her, who softly patted her head and nodded along.

“Why, of course he won. That child...worked hard for this.”

A soft look on her face, Fram gazed over Yuri’s collapsed form. Yuri had tried out whatever he could this past week. To what extent he could draw out his traits, how many attacks he could fire from the same body part, how far he could push his maximum output, how long he could keep up his enhancements, how long it took to heal his injuries, how well he could move while injured—

He chipped away at his body and soul to tackle each barrier one at a time. Through a mix of them all, he had surpassed the wall of mix-blood.

“Yeah...he worked really hard...!!”

Seeing Athena burst into tears like a child, Fram continued patting her on the head. “After all that, I’m sure he’s simply exuberant.”

Yuri had passed out in the center of the ring. Even now, his left arm jutted straight out from his body. To erase any doubt that he was the victor, his smile refused to die from where he lay.

And while those in the plaza watched him curiously—

“Heya! Did you get an eyeful of that, duelists!!?”

A voice through a megaphone resounded across the silent ring. The voice caused them to unanimously look up. To the top floor of Babel Tower...to the Administrator Velt.

“It ain’t just everyone gathered here; you lot watching the broadcast, you listen up too,” Velt prefaced before addressing every continent of the world. “Right now, you’re all far too weak. You don’t fight because you can’t win, because you don’t have enough rate, because you think you’re not going to rise in the ranks anyway. For such petty reasons, you fight only safe duels. Such boring duels... Haven’t you grown tired of them yet?”

In a low voice, Velt spoke to chastise his charges. And yet, this elicited no audible objections. Those who saw the fight quietly lent their ears.

“Listen up, the limit’s such a boring word to restrict yourself by. No need to imagine the likes of what’ll happen if you lose...just keep your eyes on victory, and fight!!”

His words resonated strongly in an attempt to rouse every duelist.

“The Creator of all people prepared such a damn fun place for all of us! Then why not put on a show for ’em? Fight with all you got!!”

As his words continued to turn, his face shifted to a smile as innocent as the boy’s.

“Aim for the top—try and beat us Administrators!!”

These words caused the excitement of those in the plaza to boil over. The gruff cries of duelists spread across the duel city in its entirety. The broadcasts propagated this fervor to the eight continents of the eight tribes.

As duelists, as those who came and longed for battle, they were the ones who found joy in fighting with the title of strongest on the line.

“With the power vested in me as an Administrator—I hereby open the Babel Roulette!!”

On Velt’s call, the enthusiasm spread like an explosion. And...the battle to determine the strongest had begun.

Final Chapter

The absolute summit of one of the Eight Tribes, Administrator Velt, declared the opening of the Babel Roulette. It wasn’t only the duel city; this would surely be a hot topic all over the world. At the same time, another spicy tidbit spread across the continents: The mix-blooded duelist, Yuri Eniastar.

While a mix-blood, he had reached a point where he could use Tribe Skills. While a mix-blood, he triumphed over the Adamant, the Beheading Elias. Their duel broadcast racked up ludicrous viewership, and even now the archived footage continued to be replayed incessantly.

A fire had been lit in the hearts of many a duelist. Seeing Yuri exceed his limit and fight on, these duelists were roused to polish themselves, and resolved to participate in the Roulette for a chance at being the top dog.

An unprecedented number of people registered for the event, while new duelists continued to flood into the city. And, as the curtain opened on a new battle—the boy at the eye of the hurricane, Yuri, was tied up on a bed.

“Erk... If you could be so very kind... I’m fine already...”

What’s more, he was weeping with a futon wrapped tightly around his body.

“Definitely not! You can’t get up until your Big Sis says it’s okay!”

“...I never thought it would come to this.”

Athena rebuked him with crooked eyebrows, while Fram let out a tired sigh. His wounds from the duel were reverted the moment the Field came undone. This was a little different from healing, per se; rather than injuries being healed, they were just set to however bad they were before the duel began.

However, the circumstances were quite different when it came to Yuri. By incessantly breaking his brain’s limiter against Elias, he had forced his body to exhibit strength beyond its physical bounds. As a result, his uninhibited state would now break out in daily life as well.

“The door, the table, the cutlery, the floor, the walls...what else was there?”

“Don’t forget what he did to the bed and bath too!”

Hole-ridden floors, cracks running down the walls, crushed window sills—the various fragments scattered along the floor, and countless other travesties to behold.

“Hah... My house is on the road to ruin...”

“I’m really sorry, Ms. Mirka...”

“At this point, your only real option is to take responsibility and become my bride...”

“Wait, I’m a boy, you know!”

“Oh, you’re cute. You can probably go either way!”

Mirka drooled liberally as she stuck up her thumb. Fram, meanwhile, ignored her, and slapped a hand against Yuri’s forehead.

“Anyhow, stay put until your brain learns how to work properly again.”

“Urgh... I want to duel...”

“You have to stay still! It’s important to rest your body!”

“Oh, Athena said something decent for once.”

“I’m always decent!”

“Well, there’s two months until the Roulette starts for real. We’re given ample time to register teams and gather members, so there’s no need to hurry for now,” Fram said as she pointed at the Proof by his pillow.

A Proof that glimmered...the green of Beryl.

By defeating Elias, Yuri’s rate increased by a large margin. He rose from Iron to Beryl as his position in the duelist rankings shot up drastically. According to Mirka, he had apparently set a historic record with the speed at which he climbed the ranks.

“For the time being, Yuri’s become a recognizable duelist. The footage of his duel with Elias is gaining popularity, so I’m sure he’ll get a considerable payout of fight money.”

“Ah, you’re right! Then, I can’t intrude on Ms. Mirka forever, so how about I go look for a room to—”

“Definitely not! Big Sis gets the feeling you’re just saying that to go out and pick fights!”

“Rather, the way you are, you’re just going to be kicked out of any room you find.”

“With Yuri, I just might end up forgiving everything...”

“......I see.”

Yuri let his head fall into the pillow out of resignation.

“Aight! Now that that’s settled, I’ll go and buy dinner!”

“Then perhaps I should tag along. What are you going to do, Mirka?”

“I need to drop by an acquaintance’s to get the room fixed up. Maybe I should put in an order for sturdy materials he won’t break too easily.”

“Alright, then Yuri. You stay here, and stay low.”

“Yes...understood.”

The three of them removed the door—split in two—from its hinges as they made their way out.

Yuri was left alone, and he found himself muttering to himself for no reason in particular.

“I really have...become a duelist.”

He had always dreamed of becoming one. He set out to be the strongest duelist, one that would never lose to anyone. And...his hand had finally reached the first rung of the ladder. He gripped his fist as the feeling of accomplishment washed over him yet again—his thoughts were interrupted as a light knocking came from the doorway.

“My apologies. Is Yuri Eniastar... What are you doing?”

“...Beg your pardon. If you could please get me out of this.”

“I see. It must have been Athena.”

“I guess you’re not her brother for nothing.”

Elias shook his head upon seeing the futon wrapped around Yuri. Once his binding was undone, the two of them ceremoniously sat on the floor, across from one another.

“How are you feeling now? It does appear that the room is a mess.”

“Ahahah... It seems I can’t quite control my strength anymore.”

“Hmm. You mean to say, you can no longer turn off your tribal traits.”

“You’re quick on the uptake...”

“It is important for a duelist to make deductions based on the situation,” he indifferently answered, before lowering his head.

“I must apologize to you, Yuri Eniastar.” He spoke pensively, as if thinking aloud would help him sort through his emotions. “Somewhere in my heart...I definitely looked down on the existence that is a mix-blood.”

The reason his friend had left the city, in lament, despair, and disappointment... Surely it was because when she was at the end of the rope, she could no longer defeat Elias by virtue of being a mix-blood. As a friend who respected her, Elias had no choice but to see it this way. He didn’t want to believe by any means that she lacked the resolve or the effort.

“Even now, I don’t think Reilly lacked drive. I refuse to believe she didn’t push herself hard enough. However...to equate the two of you would be an insult to you both.”

He hadn’t seen Yuri Eniastar as a duelist in his own right.

“Once again, allow me to apologize for this discourtesy.”

“O-Oh, no, don’t worry about it! I said all sorts of rude things before the duel as well.”

He shook his head from side to side before hurriedly turning back to Elias.

“Also...there’s something I have to tell you about my master.”

“...About Reilly?”

“Yes. My master did not desire death as a duelist out of despair.”

The Reilly Malbork Yuri knew had not left the city stained in disappointment and despair. She had chosen to step back from active duty to raise a disciple. But there was a different reason Reilly sought out death.

“My master often spoke of you, Mr. Elias. ‘He’s always got this grumpy look on his face, but truth be told, he’s a delicate guy who always looks out for me,’ she said.”

A friend who had studied and fought alongside him. Precisely because she understood him better than anyone, Reilly knew that her leaving the duel city would weigh heavily on Elias’s mind.

That was why Reilly chose death and left without a word.

“‘I want him to just forget about me and start thinking about himself,’ is what she said.”

Elias included, her teammates had done so much to support her. She knew all too well that she had become a burden to them. For this reason, Reilly had to choose death. Indeed, if she was no longer a duelist, she would become a loser—a worthless existence destined to be forgotten.

In order for her comrades to forget about her and fight freely, Reilly Malbork had died as a duelist. That was the best way to part with her friends, the most she could do for them. At least, that’s how it was in the mind of one terribly awkward fighter.

“When I heard that, I told her, ‘You really are awkward, aren’t you, Master,’ and, ‘We got so close in the duels, and yet, it was way too embarrassing to face them straight and say goodbye,’ she said. And so—”

Though he was about to go on about Reilly, Yuri suddenly stopped himself.

“Yeah...when she was so resourceful in a duel, I often wondered how she was always stumbling through everything else,” Elias said, hanging his head. “There’s no way someone like that could have understood how we felt.” With every word that came out of him, a thin tear uneventfully rolled down his cheek. “There was no way we could ever forget about Reilly.”

They had fought together, chasing one another’s back. The fun days of battle they spent, those memories would never disappear as long as he lived.

“She’s an idiot—it’s as if I never understood that.”

And Elias laughed as if the devil had left him. He smiled without a care in the world, like the spikes stretching him thin had vanished. After quietly wiping away his tears, Elias took on a more serious expression.

“Eniastar, can I count on you to pass on a message next time you see Reilly?”

“Err, a message?”

“Quit trying to act cool, dumbass. I demand an apology for leaving without a word.”

“Ahahah...got it. I’ll give it word for word.”

Entrusted with a message ten years in the making, Yuri gave a wry smile and nodded. The two of them shared a laugh when—

“Aah! Eli! What are you doing to Yuri!?” Athena, back with Fram, marched up in a huff. “Let me guess, you’re making fun of him again!”

“No, I was just—”

“And you even took off his restraints!”

“I’m more worried about my little sister’s thought process that led her to restrain someone with a futon.”

“Ah, God, I hate you, Eli! I’m not talking to you until tomorrow!”

“I see, a very lenient time period.”

While the two of them broke into an incoherent exchange, Fram cautiously tugged on Elias’s sleeve.

“Elias. If you came to apologize, you must have brought a dessert or two.”

“I see you never change, Aizberg.”

“If you didn’t come bearing gifts, offer up some advice about the Babel Roulette. Then we’ll call it even,” Fram said with a shrug, prompting Elias to remember why he was there in the first place.

“That’s right, Eniastar. You should make a team with yourself as the leader.”

“I-I’m the leader!?”

“Correct. The fame and strength of the team leader directly influences how willing people will be to join you. While Athena and Aizberg are both popular, at the moment you are a duelist known across the continents.”

“You do have a point, but...”

While Yuri crossed his arms and mulled, Athena’s face went into full bloom.

“Nice, I like the sound of that! A team made by Yuri sounds fun!”

“If we leave it to Athena, I get the feeling she’ll just pick up anyone who asks, and I find socialization to be a right pain. Yuri’s probably our best bet.”

“Err, Fram, aren’t you just shoving your trouble onto me...”

“I never said that.” She sullenly turned to face the other way, but it was certainly difficult to imagine her assertively trying to recruit people.

Eventually, at the end of his mulling...Yuri energetically lifted his head. “...Understood! I’ll do it!”

“Hooray! Let’s all join the Babel Roulette together!”

“I’m somewhat counting on you, leader.”

“Hey, make sure the two of you pull your weight as well!”

“Aye, sir! Big Sis will give it her all!”

“Not too much, I hope. You’ll tire everyone out.”

The three made a ruckus, discussing the birth of a new team. After reflecting a bit on this familiar sight, Elias chose the right time to cut in.

“If you’re forming a team, make sure you think up a name before you register. I grew so attached to my team’s name I used it as the name of my shop.”

“Hmm... Then, what does the word Argent mean?”

“It was cobbled together from the words for ‘Silver’ in various tribal languages. Reilly thought it up when she saw me acting as team leader.”

“I see... Since we’re here, Athena, Fram, do you have any ideas?”

“Ultra-Hyper-Yuri Team!”

“Eniastar Team.”

“Rejected out of sheer lameness!”

“Say what!? That was my greatest masterpiece!”

“...Was mine really that lame?”

Bluntly rejecting their proposals, Yuri stood brimming with energy. “Then while we’re at it, how about we decide with a duel!”

This was Duel City Babel, the last fighting arena left in the world. Where strength was everything, and everyone aimed to stand at the top. It was not a fair world, nor was it a just one, but Yuri Eniastar continued to smile. He had been born to the weakest lineage, yet all he could imagine was spending fun duelist days with his comrades in arms.