Chapter 65: An Uninvited Duel

Lema pressed his forehead as though his head ached.

A sigh slipped from his lips.

“Ah… damn it.”

Did his holy knight just curse?

He had been muttering things like how he felt uneasy, how it was better not to get too close, always throwing out flimsy excuses that didn’t make much sense.

So there must be something else going on.

Whether Lema was uneasy or not, the man had already walked right up to them.

He was tall.

Even though Lema was quite tall himself, standing side by side made Lema seem just slightly shorter.

His face was pale in stark contrast to his thick body hair. His ebony hair hung long and straight.

His eyes were as dark as Bel’s, though faint streaks of blue glimmered in his irises. And his lips were unnaturally red.

From a distance, he had looked like a shadow—probably because of the way he was dressed.

Other than his face, his whole body was tightly wrapped up, leaving only the tips of his fingers exposed. Even his long black hair looked like part of his clothing, draping around him.

Up close, though, one could see that the ends of his garments were decorated with strange knotted patterns. It wasn’t for style—since the thread was black, it was almost invisible unless one looked carefully.

He smiled constantly, his eyes curved with laughter, his lips always carrying a trace of amusement.

Anyone else would have found him instantly likable.

A kind impression.

If the word priest of Luxlon were to take human form, it would look exactly like this.

Now Lema’s hesitation made sense—why he had said, “He looks like a priest of Luxlon… probably.”

When Bel looked at him, the man also turned his gaze this way, staring intently at where she sat.

Then he spoke.

“…I suppose you’re companions.”

If one word could sum up his first impression, it would be imbalance.

Because his voice was shocking.

Such a face—handsome, even delicate—and yet such a voice.

It was a voice like a beast growling, deep and rough rather than clear. If he sang hymns, his voice alone could cover the lowest bass part.

In every way, he seemed mismatched.

His tall body, wrapped in heavy clothes, was clearly well-trained. His face was that of a gentle beauty. His voice was the raw growl of a predator.

A man impossible to define in a single phrase.

He gave Bel a polite nod, then turned back to Lema. He had come here for Lema, but Bel’s presence had stolen too much of his attention.

“Still thinking it over?”

“Master, excuse me a moment.”

Lema asked Bel for forgiveness, then whipped his head toward the man.

“What part of no didn’t you understand? Why are you clinging like this?”

Apparently, Lema had rejected him politely earlier, but the man either didn’t understand or refused to accept it.

Rejected… about what?

Bel tilted her head slightly, and both men turned to look at her. Lema hurried to explain.

“After the preliminaries ended, he challenged me to a duel.”

“A duel?”

“Yes.”

The man added, “You came to the arena to fight anyway. Wouldn’t it be fine to face me once?”

His voice was drowsy and lazy, yet heavy with dominance, as though naturally looking down on others.

Bel rubbed her earlobe, her ear tingling from the sound. Even that small gesture caught the man’s eyes—he instantly turned his head and, for the first time, erased the smile from his lips.

There was no mistaking it.

Though he was here for Lema, his gaze kept being pulled irresistibly toward Bel.

Sensing danger, Lema quickly interjected.

“If you passed the preliminaries, then we’ll meet in the finals anyway. Why waste strength beforehand? You don’t look weak either. Don’t be foolish.”

“…Then.”

Even after Lema gave him an answer, the man still stared at Bel.

“What about you? Would you face me?”

“Me?”

When Bel responded, the man nodded, his gaze burning with excitement.

“Yes. You’d be more than enough. No, rather—”

That was the last straw for Lema, who shot to his feet.

“Watch your tongue. My master may overlook your rudeness, but I won’t. Do you call it proper etiquette to challenge strangers to fights the moment you meet?”

He reached for his sword, ready to draw. He wasn’t only angry—he was terrified. Bel might actually devour this man. Better that the man get scared off and leave.

Fortunately, the man raised both hands in surrender.

“…Ah. I see. My apologies.”

Even after feeling the clear threat, he returned to his smiling face. Then he bowed deeply toward Bel, placing his hand over his chest.

He seemed to know instinctively how to draw attention.

“My name is Krughgal. May I have your name?”

“Belmias.”

Without hesitation, Bel introduced herself. Krughgal’s smile widened.

“You, Belmias. Would you grant me the honor of a duel?”

“Shall I?”

“Master…!”

Lema nearly collapsed in despair.

He had told Bel not to get involved with people like this, but her eyes clearly gleamed with interest.

And Lema noticed.

From the start, Bel had wanted to devour this Krughgal. Her hunger had been building, and Lema alone was no longer enough.

Now, with such a delicious-looking human right in front of her, it was unbearable.

“After the duel, I’ll eat you.”

“Here?” Lema gasped.

“Gladly,” Krughgal answered without hesitation.

“Hey!”

Neither of them paid any attention to Lema’s protests.

As Lema clutched the back of his neck in frustration, Krughgal’s smile deepened. His eyes narrowed like a cat’s, his red lips curving beautifully, almost seductively.

“For you to say that… it must mean you’re willing to wager your own heart as well. Though it seems I’d be the only one risking anything… well, that’s fine.”

His rich, vibrating voice resonated like honey against the eardrum.

Bel’s calm reply was only natural. She could not lose.

But Krughgal was different. He clearly knew he might lose—and die—and yet he willingly leapt toward it.

A strange man.

Bel grew more interested, reaching out a hand to touch him. Krughgal smelled delicious, which meant he could also be a candidate as a summoner. But since his body was so tightly wrapped, Bel would need to uncover some part of him to feel his bare skin.

She had already decided.

“Master, wait. At least let’s move somewhere else…”

Even if they fought, they needed to do it in a quiet place, where only this man would die. Lema stepped forward to block them when—

Bang!

The door to the tavern burst open.

“Everyone get back! A monster—!”

Crunch!

“Kyaaah!”

“Argh!”

Before the man could finish shouting, a monster lunged in and bit his head clean off.

Screams erupted, chaos swallowing the tavern in an instant.

Bel, Lema, and Krughgal turned their eyes outside.

Perhaps because their conversation had been so tense, they hadn’t noticed the commotion beyond the walls.

They postponed the duel for now and stepped outside.

A beast from the arena had broken loose, tearing the streets apart.

People screamed, fleeing in terror or desperately trying to fight back.

But even if handlers arrived, it seemed impossible to contain a monster that had already escaped like this.

Lema frowned. He had once been a holy knight who specialized in subduing such things, though this wasn’t what he had come here to do.

“No matter how negligent Lucilonia’s management has become, they should’ve brought monsters they could actually control.”

“They probably could… originally,” Krughgal replied.

It wasn’t the same beast Bel had faced earlier. This one was far larger, far more aggressive.

“It wasn’t this big before.”

It must have only barely been manageable up until now.

Until Bel had arrived and faced the monsters.

“Lema, monsters can adjust their defenses according to the level of threat around them.”

“…Ah. I see.”

That was enough explanation.

Monsters could grow stronger in response to danger. The one locked safely behind iron bars had suddenly swollen in size because of Bel’s overwhelming presence.

One thing was clear—

The tournament would not continue like this.