1,000,000 Karma: My Reward Is a Quiet Life-Chapter 82: The Burden of a Hero
Galileo looked ahead, unbothered by his failed assault, instead feeling the opposite of what he should’ve normally felt: a sense of victory surged through his veins.
’That’s the second time he’s dodged when I’ve attempted to completely crush him. Everything else, he’s willingly taken and recovered from in an instant. He doesn’t want his entire body crushed, which means one thing,’ the experienced adventurer concluded.
"You’re not immortal," Galileo called out.
Blank put his hand to his chin, looking up as if racking his brain, "I’m not? I don’t remember claiming to be. That’s just an assumption you made."
In the mind of the isolated hero, he considered multiple possibilities:
"Blank" could only reattach separated parts with his golden threads. The threads were able to heal any wound, but required more mana the larger the injury, which is why "Blank" avoided complete pulverization. The golden threads were the source of "Blank"’s life. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞
The first option was already off the table, seeing as the joyous heretic reverted a caved-in torso. As for the second, if mana was a requirement, Galileo estimated the cost would be more than enough to dry out even an Archmage.
’If my theory is correct, then maybe...It’s outlandish, but maybe. He seems indifferent to sensation entirely, and that lifeless look in his eyes. The threads themselves–they might be puppeteering the body,’ Galileo theorized.
While one development occurred in the former scholar’s mind, another spurred in front of him: the stitched man rushed at him. It was the first time the initiative was taken by "Blank", prompting Galileo to respond.
’You’ve realized, haven’t you? I’ve figured you out!’ The tempered hero thought, matching his gaze to those lifeless, platinum eyes.
Faster than the patchwork cultist could reach him, the hammer was kicked up, ready to be brought down. Desperate pleas in the crowd cheered the hero on–
"Do it, Galileo!"
"You can win this!"
–Yet, the hammer that crushed despair was not brought down. Galileo was left frozen in place, holding the gargantuan steel above his head.
"What’s he doing...?!"
"Galileo, please!"
"Hold on, he’s...!"
While others doubted the resolve of the renowned hero, thinking he hesitated to kill the other man, the truth became apparent: Galileo was unable to move.
"Nrgh...!" The towering scholar struggled, gritting his teeth as sweat slid down his skin.
Blank stood there with a calm smile, looking up at the mass of steel that cast a shadow over him, "That was close. I wasn’t sure if I’d be strong enough to hold a beast like you back."
From cracks in the ground, golden threads slid up his body, infiltrating his armor to trail up his body and completely ensnare him like a boa constrictor. The more Galileo resisted their hold, the tighter it became, squeezing his bare flesh beneath the armor.
"Careful now," Blank warned. "If you keep resisting, they’ll start cutting into you. As much as I’d like to see that, I want to have a little chat."
"I have nothing to say to you," Galileo harshly responded, turning his attention to the crowd. "Do not be afraid, good people! There are many powerful heroes here! All of you will be safe–just remain calm and look out for one another!"
"What’re you getting at?--" Blank listened with a raised eyebrow before his eyes went wide.
As the crowd looked on at the bound hero, the sight drew equal hope and sorrow–
Blood spewed from the gaps in Galileo’s armor as he moved, the sound of his own flesh being eviscerated beneath being heard to those in even the furthest rows. With no attachment to his own prosperity, the scholar brought the inherited hammer down–
"Wait!" Blank begged, raising his arms.
A fruitless request–the boulder of steel was brought down with such force, the ground they stood on was crushed in its entirety. It was an impact heard not just throughout the stadium, but throughout the entire city, like the grandest firework going off.
Galileo clenched his teeth as the battlefield rumbled, breaking apart as chunks began to fall into the water beneath.
At the moment he crushed the arrogant cultist, blood squirted out from beneath the radiant armor, too much to be ignored, even by the valiant man. If even the smallest part of him clung to life, even a single ounce of strength choosing self-preservation, it wouldn’t have been enough to obliterate the threat.
"Nngh...!" Galileo winced, unable to stand as each and every muscle was severed.
The bloodied hero could only lean his head back, exhaling the residual air in his lungs. Upon his ears, he heard the distant cries and desperate pleas–begging for his survival.
’Don’t cry. You’ll all be alright,’ the man thought as his consciousness began fading.
As he sat there on his knees, every moment in his life flashed. Victories over beasts that brought ruin to villages, being thanked by those he saved, and even the moments he failed–
["...Ah..."]
In his eyes of the hero that lived through grand tales, the moment in time etched into the core of his memories was rather simple: sat at that table in the study, with his father across him from engrossed in his own pursuit of knowledge.
["You were always a busy man, Father, but I understood that. Yet, when you’d share the study with me, sitting across from me quietly as we dove into these endless books–I was at my happiest."]
Tears ran down the hero’s cheek, though he did not hold any regret for his choice. Sitting there on his knees as the colosseum wept, he reached his hand out. The hammer sat there in front of him, never leaving his side.
"...Moria..." He weakly said with his fading voice.
["This entire time, you’ve never left me. Just promise me, now that my time is over...Find someone worthy to wield you. A world like this needs all the help it can get."]
As the strength completely left the beloved hero’s body, he collapsed in front of the hammer.
After some time in silence, the quivering announcer sniffled, finding his voice, "THE WINNER IS...GALILEO! A HERO!"
With tears in their eyes, the crowd applauded the fallen adventurer. Otto tried wiping his tears on his sleeve, though they didn’t stop.
At the sight of the selfless act, the orc found himself weeping as well, "It is an honor to be a witness to your ultimate act of selflessness, hero!"
–
Beneath the arena, unaware of what was transpiring above, Noah ran alongside Sylvan through the tunnels. The passage led into an open area with tall, stone pillars supporting the upper area. It was a barren room, housing only the tall, quiet stone, along with a light layer of water making the tiles moist.
"Hold on," Sylvan held her arm out, coming to a sudden stop.
"What?--" Noah asked hurriedly.
As he questioned the swordswoman’s suggestion, he was greeted by what stopped them: a grotesque humanoid of tar-like flesh, landing from the ceiling with a "splat." It had a head like a found, its jaw opening four ways with a slimy tail landing behind it.
[Greater Identification] [A-Rank Close-Quarters Combat Skill]
["Shadow-Thing"] [Designated Level: ???] [Species: ???]
[Weaknesses: ???]
"What even is that?" Noah asked, covering his nose with his arm at the putrid smell of decomposition coming from the enigma.
"I’ve heard of ’em," Sylvan said, sharing the same disgust as scrunched her nose. "Creepy ass abominations that pop out whenever that cult is around. Some sorta familiars–"
In the middle of her explanation, the hound-faced abomination lunged across the room of pillars. It came so quickly and abruptly they were both caught by surprise as it slashed its claws towards the hot-headed woman–CLANG.
"Tch...!" Sylvan clicked her tongue, sliding back as her claymore handled the freakish entity’s swipe.
Noah was left beside it, aiming to slash through its side only for the abomination to spin around to duck under his axe. The inexplicable dexterity it displayed took him by further surprise as it spun around, leading its thick tail to crash into his body.
[Iron Body]
He flexed at the moment of impact, though it didn’t stop him from being thrown back. Catching himself on his feet, he slid back with a sharp exhale. The "Shadow-Thing" stood between both of them now, with its standing at such an angle it was ready to lash out at whoever stepped towards it first.
’She said it was a "familiar"--if it’s some kind of spirit, I can handle this easily. If not, this could be some trouble,’ he considered.
Not much time had passed since his grueling bout with Van. Even if his wounds were mostly healed, his stamina and mana weren’t recovered in the same way. As he took a step towards the creature, it was in fact the hot-headed swordswoman that made the first move.
"Hraah!" Sylvan lashed out, swinging her blade as a catalyst for her lightning.
While the tar-fleshed horror scrambled on all four, the forks of electric discharge closed in from all sides, curving around to make sure it had no avenue to dodge. A direct hit struck the familiar, causing its body to convulse as it released a sound like wooden floorboards creaking from its mouth.
’Multiple hits of Cursed Lightning–that should seal the deal,’ Noah thought, staying ready with his axe.
