1,000,000 Karma: My Reward Is a Quiet Life-Chapter 80: The Seal
"You want to know what I am?" The eccentric heretic spoke with a fervent passion now, jabbing his thumb against the side of his head. "Enlightened! That’s what I am! I’ve opened my eyes to the true nature of this world. To me, you’re all blind!"
On the balcony, the announcer lent his ear to members of the establishment, nodding before addressing the colosseum, "IN THE INTEREST OF EVERYONE’S SAFETY, WE WILL BE POSTPONI–"
"No," Blank interrupted the announcement firmly. "If there’s any attempt to postpone this match, this whole place is turning into a bloodbath."
Panic set in immediately with the words used by the cultist, causing many members of the audience to shout, others attempting to flee the stands towards the exits.
"Oh, also I should mention nobody is allowed to leave until the match is over. I’m not trying to put on a show for nobody," Blank issued his command with a raised finger. "Explosive seals have been placed throughout the area. If you think I’m bluffing, feel free to ask for a demonstration."
A once joyous event was flipped on its head, veiling it in an inevitable dread.
From the VIP room, the situation settled quickly for the waiting participants. There wasn’t any hesitation as Sylvan drew her claymore from the scabbard on her back, with the goblin right beside her.
"I’m not standin’ for this horseshit! Let’s take ’em out!" Sylvan said, starting towards the door.
"Yeah! Nobody is ruining this event for me!" Ogatrina joined in.
The Concierge got in front of the doorway in a hurry, holding his arms out to block their way, "Hold on, please! This is a sensitive situation–"
"Outta the way!" The hot-headed swordswoman demanded, stabbing her claymore into the marble floor just inches in front of the worker.
"Eep...!" The Concierge flinched.
A hand befell the unreasonable swordswoman’s shoulder, coming from the silver-haired elf as he gave her a serious look, "Knock it off, Sylvan."
"Huh–? Yer trying to stop me? You of all people?" Sylvan turned back with a raised eyebrow. "Out of any of us, you have the most reason–"
"I know, but if you rush in without giving it any thought, you’re going to end up getting a lot of people killed," Lamore reasoned, moving his hand away. "Calm down and think about it."
There was certainly some hesitation as the swordswoman had to wrangle in her own proclivity towards violence before sheathing her blade with a sharp exhale, "Fine, fine, I hear ya’."
Noah questioned the frightened Concierge, "Are you having the security here check the place for seals?"
"O-of course! We’ve hired the best-of-the-best mercenaries for this sort of situation!" The ginger-haired worker asserted, nodding his head vigorously.
"Hah! Those rejects couldn’t be trusted to find their own ass in broad daylight!" Sylvan laughed off. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢
’What does that even mean?’ Noah thought, putting that to the back of his mind for more urgent matters.
The manager was quick to dispel the accusation on his staff, "That’s not true, I assure you! Everything will be just fine–"
"It’d be best if we assisted in securing the arena. I’m not just talking about the seals," Lamore said adamantly, looking towards the others.
Noah caught onto what was being inferred, "Accomplices, right?"
The idea of the unknown cultist not working alone silenced the room with a sense of dread. A bad situation gone worse, most of them had the same thought.
"To my knowledge, they never operate solo. And when you see one...tragedy follows," the elf recalled, touching where his prosthetics met his skin.
It was crystal clear the severity of the situation, even making the once cheerful Concierge bite onto his thumb to cope with the stress.
"The entire building is constantly guarded, though! There’d be no way for those cultists to get in," the Concierge reasoned, drawing blood from his own finger.
"The guy there made it in, didn’t he?" Ogatrina pointed at the screen.
"That’s..." The inn manager’s voice fell weak.
Lamore shook his head, "I’d wager some might’ve infiltrated by posing as normal citizens. They’ve blended into the crowd. If not that...Concierge, are there any secret routes? Unused passages?"
"Secret passages? Well, there are maintenance tunnels–wait, you can’t mean–?!" The Concierge answered, following with a gasp.
"I’d imagine that’s where they’re setting up whatever they’re planning here," Lamore figured, looking towards the other contestants. "We’ll split up and search the building. Does that sound manageable?"
"Sure thing!" Sylvan excitedly said, reaching for her claymore.
"I can use a warm-up before our match!" The goblin girl bounced up-and-down.
They all looked to the newcomer amongst them, encouraging Noah to one decision that he naturally accepted, "We’ll find out whatever it is this group is up to."
In the stands, there was anything but calmness keeping people in check. Some yelled, shouting for explanations, while others fearfully pushed past one another, but nobody was granted exit.
Otto stayed seated, "What’s even going on? The Cult of Goetia...There’s no way, right? Well, just saying that feels like I’m jinxing us all, huh?"
"Right now, we just need to stay calm. Running around in a panic is going to get us nowhere," Rain advised with a perturbed exhale. "It’s an annoyance, though."
–
The tunnels of the arena looked as though they’d be abandoned for decades, layered in dust and cobwebs along the grimy brick.
’Guess they don’t care about maintaining the over-the-top, rich decor here. But, what is it even used for? It doesn’t like used at all,’ he thought, looking around as he walked with careful steps.
They’d all gone separate ways, since the secret passages reportedly span miles, according to the Concierge’s report. In the way of light, there wasn’t any of it, leaving him quietly marching the darkness.
The idea crossed his mind to summon a familiar, though he felt it was best to preserve his mana, and the essence of stealth. Each step had a light "squish" beneath it, as the cobblestones floor seemed dense with spillage.
’I can hardly see a thing,’ he thought.
The tunnels were about five meters wide, the corridor only passing by stacks of boxes full of junk.
’Lamore gave me the rundown about these guys–the "Cult of Goetia." They can’t be reasoned with, and death isn’t even an inconvenience for them–they welcome it. If it comes down to it, I’ll have to...I’ll be ready to do it,’ he assured himself, clenching the handle of his weapon.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A distinct sound pulled his approach to a pause. He didn’t let even the subtlest exhale escape his lips, listening as closely as he could–
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He carefully approached, taking cautious steps with complete silence as he turned the corner within the tunnels. As he looked around–there it was: a seal drawn in the shape of a scarlet crown hummed on the wall.
In front of the magic inscription, a tall figure veiled in a drenched cloak loomed, tall enough that they had to duck their head beneath the ceiling. Even if he reached up on his tippy-toes, Noah doubted he could touch that high.
The hunched-over giant wore a wooden mask beneath his hood, painted with a frighteningly innocent smiling face.
’This guy...Is he even human?’ Noah questioned.
A voice as deep as a chasm came from the goliath, "I set the seal, I protect the seal."
"Mind standing down and getting rid of that? I’d like to avoid going the violent route, if possible," Noah requested, standing at the intersection of tunnels.
"I set the seal, I protect the seal," the masked giant repeated.
"You’re a part of the Cult of Goetia, I take it? Starting to understand the picture of you all being twisted," Noah remarked with a quiet huff, knowing what was coming.
The sewage-drenched robes lifted as the goliath reached under, revealing a torn tunic that hardly hid the tattooed body carved in muscle beneath. From his waist, a giant pair of silver scissors were unveiled.
"I set the seal, I protect the seal," once again, the giant repeated, spreading and closing the blades of the scissors.
"Yeah, I heard you the hundredth time," he tiredly said.
As he blinked a single time, without making a sound, the slow-minded giant was in front of him. The oversized scissors were parted, the blades on each side of his neck. With those hulking forearms, the hunched cultist brought the handles together as the sharp steel hissed–CLANG.
[Auto-Reflex]
"--!"
The collision of steel birthed sparks as the axe was the only thing between the scissors and his neck. Mere inches from being decapitated, a tingly sensation brushed against his throat, staring ahead at that unnerving mask.
He held his other hand out, using that feeling to convert into manifesting electricity that coiled at his fingertip–ZAP.
"Ooough?" The giant grunted.
The small, but mighty bolt struck against the cultist’s abdomen, sending the goliath sliding back as the electricity roared through the dark tunnel. While it was a direct hit, Noah felt a peculiar sensation behind the impact, as if hitting something entirely more dense than it should be.
’This feeling...What is this guy made of, anyway?’ He questioned.
